


Hold Me Close (Give Me A Little Kiss)

by Quarra, xantissa



Series: No Wolves Allowed [18]
Category: Castlevania Lords of Shadow と 宿命の魔鏡 | Castlevania: Lords of Shadow & Mirror of Fate, Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Aftercare, Biting, Blood Drinking, Cock Worship, Dom/sub, Dracula/Geralt/Alucard (background), Eskel & Alucard (background), Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Marking, Mild D/s, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Subspace, vampire sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/pseuds/Quarra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa
Summary: It’s not even halfway through the summer hunting season and Eskel found himself already heading to head back to Kaer Morhen to see who’s there. It’s not that he waslonely. That would be ridiculous.Eskel quickly realizes that his desire to see Dracula is more than just a passing fancy, or the yearning for a familiar face. Maybe, perhaps, he might be interested in something a little bit more...
Relationships: Gabriel Belmont | Dracula/Eskel (The Witcher)
Series: No Wolves Allowed [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1195675
Comments: 50
Kudos: 145





	Hold Me Close (Give Me A Little Kiss)

**Author's Note:**

> Bah, time flew by pretty quick for my, so my apologies for how long it took to get this out. Happy holidays to everyone, have some smut ;)
> 
> Again, a huge thank you to [Dira Sudis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis) for beta reading, you are The Bestest, and to Xan for her patience.

\--

Eskel dropped his pack next to him on the floor of his bedroom, and sat down in the chair with a thump. It had been a damn shitty few weeks. Just, mess after mess, each contract more of a disaster than the last. 

Some were just tedious, with a load of back and forth. For one, everyone who he’d talked to had a different version of what monster was attacking him, and he had to talk to each one of them several times before getting it straight. 

There was another job where the little village he’d been hired by had been attracting necrophages. He’d killed off the ones he saw, and then told the villagers that they had to get rid of every dead body, every corpse, every bit of dead meat and _bury it_. Deep. Or at least burn it all. 

But they had some stupid ass version of whatever cult religion they worshiped that said they just had to keep the dead whole and intact in a mausoleum. When he explained that this was what was attracting the ghouls, he thought they listened. 

He killed off the ghouls that were present, took his coin, and left them with strict instructions on how to prevent further problems. 

Apparently, some had decided to go liberate their honored dead from their resting places before the structure could be burnt to ash. That night the necrophages had showed back up, in great numbers, and went straight into people’s homes. 

When he’d wandered back through the area a few days later, the village had already been wiped out.

As the days stretched on, the aching need for touch ramped up, too. Eskel hadn’t even laid eyes on Alucard in weeks. The last time he’d been to Kaer Morhen, Alucard was still off in Castlevania City. Their bond was still blocked, by mutual agreement, but Eskel felt the lack more keenly for every day they were apart. It never got to be too much to handle. Most of the time he could completely forget about it, especially if he was doing something else. It snuck in when he was trying to sleep, and his skin held a chill that no number of blankets could ward off. 

Finally, Eskel had decided he’d had enough, and made his way back to Kaer Morhen. Now that he was here, looking around his cool, empty bedroom, he was struck by the fact that he didn’t really want to be alone.

Dracula’s company would be nice. More than nice, if he was being honest with himself. The vampire lord’s dark, burning power wasn’t the same as Alucard’s, and it didn’t _quite_ quench the skin hunger, but it was very close. 

More than that though, Eskel found he missed Dracula’s company. His quiet, dry sense of humor and his easy acceptance of mostly everything. As ironic as it sounded, Dracula was a very restful person to be around. Maybe that was because of how safe Eskel felt around him. Literally no one and nothing could harm him while he was in Dracula’s arms, and Dracula always made sure that Eskel felt appreciated. 

Up until now, Eskel had never been the one seeking Dracula out. It had always been the other way around. Eskel would be busy or lonely or, on one or two very memorable occasions, drunk off his ass. And then Dracula would just show up.

Dracula hadn’t shown up to greet Eskel when he’d gotten into the keep today. Not that Eskel truly expected him to, and granted, he’d only _just_ gotten into the keep. The path up to Kaer Morhen had always been hidden. Now that Dracula’s castle surrounded it, that had been taken to an extreme. The witchers had their own secret entrance through the wall, one that was always guarded. No doubt that Dracula knew of Eskel’s arrival the moment the guards caught sight of him.

Eskel found he couldn’t stop thinking of him. Of how he smelled, always like burning embers with a hint of fire following his footsteps. Also, how warm he was; his body always radiated heat no matter the weather. Eskel would like that now, he thought. For all that winter was still a long time off, he felt cold, chilled to the bone. Having that kind of heat next to him sounded delightful.

He sat and thought for a moment. Perhaps if he just waited a bit, Dracula might show up. Or maybe Eskel would catch a whiff of his scent somewhere around the keep and he could follow it. He needed a bath anyways, after the days of riding it took him to get here. It would be nice to smell of something other than horse and dirt.

Decision made, Eskel grabbed some clean clothes and headed to the baths. He was lucky. They were unoccupied. It didn’t take long for him to clean up. He half expected Dracula to show up while he was naked in the bath, but he was left alone.

With that out of the way, Eskel was still at a bit of a loss.

He dropped off his dirty clothes in his room and mused over the issue.

_Well. No one says I have to wait for Dracula to show up_ , he thought to himself. Surely it would be alright if Eskel went to find him.

Granted, he could use the mark on his chest and _call_ to Dracula, but that was an emergency only kind of thing. Eskel didn’t want to misuse it.

_Maybe he’s in Geralt’s room_.

Geralt’s horse wasn’t in the stable, and neither his nor Alucard’s scent was fresh anywhere around the keep. So Eskel knew that he wouldn’t be interrupting anything by knocking on Geralt’s bedroom door.

There was no answer. 

After a second knock, he risked a peek inside. 

Empty.

He couldn’t help a snicker at the sight. The whole room consisted mostly of one huge bed piled high with pillows, rich blankets and furs. The few chests for storage that Geralt had looked like they were squished up under the walls, about to get eaten by the enormous bed stretching almost from wall to wall.

Eskel was sure that there used to be a little table and some chairs in this room, but they’d vanished. Judging by how the chests were clearly fighting for survival and losing, those too would disappear soon enough. Dracula clearly had his priorities and such paltry things like storage space were not one of his concerns.

He thought for a moment. His next best bet was probably asking one of the sex demons where Dracula was. They seemed to always know where their lord and master was. 

Since the baths were empty, perhaps one would be in the kitchen. That was the unofficial gathering place for most of the keep residents. Besides, the demons seemed to enjoy food in general. In the time the succubi lived in Kaer Morhen, Eskel learned that it wasn’t just sex, it was all kind of sensual pleasure that they were after. Good food, good wine, nice perfume, fabrics or jewelry. They loved it all.

Sure enough, Iga was in the kitchen, poking viciously at the massive kitchen fire. A petulant frown pulled at her luscious lips and her eyebrows were drawn down. Per the norm for the sex demons at Kaer, Iga was dressed minimally; today she was wearing only a light cream colored slip. The fabric must have been something very expensive, because it shimered over each of her ample curves, reflecting the ambient light in the room. Her waist length golden hair was just the perfect amount of tussled, and her golden horns gleamed like they’d been polished. 

“Hi, Iga,” Eskel said as he walked in.

She looked up at him, losing her frown to smile invitingly at him. He noticed that the demons no longer explicitly asked him for sex; they waited for him to ask instead. They still flirted and insinuated, but they weren’t as aggressive about it as they once were. He was aware enough of Dracula’s possessive nature to know that it was strictly the vampire’s influence.

“Eskel,” she purred. “Looking for company?”

“Kind of,” he said ruefully. He walked close enough to be in comfortable conversation range, and then leaned on the massive kitchen table. “I’m looking for Dracula, actually. Do you know where I might be able to find him?”

Iga immediately lost her inviting smile and the grumpy frown returned. She made a small sound, a mix of a snort and a scoff. She turned back to the fireplace and put the poker she was holding into the holder with enough force the other pokers rang with the hit.

“Any particular thing that poker did to you?” he asked, after it was clear that she wasn’t going to answer his other question right away.

“No,” Iga snapped, pulling the poker out of the holder and then roughly forcing it in again. “I’m just imagining this is Ian’s face.”

Eskel winced. “What happened, dare I ask?”

She turned to glare at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “He won card night.”

Ah. That would do it.

The sex demons all held a regular card night. Sometimes they played gwent, sometimes they played other things. The stakes were always unusual. Eskel had noticed a strange horse in the stable, so he thought they might have a visiting witcher from another school, but he hadn’t seen them around at all. Perhaps they were training in the salle. Chances were good that the sex demons had used their chances at sex with the new witcher as stakes for the game. 

And Iga lost. No wonder she was in a shitty mood.

On the other hand, Ian was finally getting some. The poor incubus had starved for months here with no one willing to sleep with him. He’d practically wept with joy when other visitors started showing up occasionally, giving him more opportunities to feed.

“Who’d he win?” Eskel asked, curious about the visiting witcher.

“Letho.” Iga sounded exceptionally jealous. 

Eskel guessed it was not without reason. He’d heard incredible things about both Letho’s, uhhh, _size_ , as well as his stamina. The demons were definitely very impressed. 

“Well. He came back for a visit. Maybe he’ll stay a while? Give the rest of you a chance.” Eskel tried to sound conciliatory.

Iga hummed unhappily, but didn’t look quite so furious. Then her eyes lit up again.

“You know, Eskel,” she said, turning to him and smiling. “I still owe you a blow job.” She licked her lips, very slowly and very suggestively. 

Eskel thought back to his hunt for alcohol in Alucard’s tower and Iga’s deal with him.

“You do,” he nodded, surprised at himself for not taking her up on her debt yet. He had been back to Kaer Morhen more than a few times since then but it had never occurred to him to bring it up. That might have been because of Dracula, who tended to act like a very localized tornado and delighted in dragging Eskel into one thing or another. 

He thought about it, about taking Iga to bed and forgetting his troubles for a while. The sex would be good, he had no doubts, but he didn’t think that it wouldn’t fill the skin craving. Nothing but Alucard could sate it completely. Dracula’s touch was close, definitely better than a stranger’s.

As uncomfortable as it made him, he had to acknowledge the fact that the skin craving wasn’t the only reason he was reluctant to take Iga up on her offer. She was fun in the sack, no doubt about it, but Eskel found he was looking forward to the sense of care and safety Dracula brought with him too. It had been a very shitty few weeks, and some comfort would be nice.

Even weirder, Eskel found that he missed their quiet conversations.

“Not today,” he shook his head. “I need to find Dracula.”

Iga sighed at him and pursed her lips. “Well. Don’t forget you have a quicky waiting.” 

She looked away, and her eyes flicked around, like she was trying to locate something that wasn’t really in the room with them. Or in the same world even.

“Master is in the library, in Carmilla’s wing,” she said after a moment. She looked over to Eskel, eyeing him from head to toe. He’d redressed in his armor and weapons after the bath; it was just habit for him to do so. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to get you there, but I’ll accompany you. Wouldn’t want one of Master’s witchers stumbling into one of the rougher parts of the castle.” She smirked at him.

“I’m a witcher,” Eskel protested. “I can take care of myself.”

“Hmm.” Iga waved his protest aside with a flappy hand. “Very manly, I know, I have partaken in that already, but it doesn’t bear thinking what would my Master do if I let you stumble through the castle alone.”

With a nod, she urged him to follow her out the door. Eskel had half expected her to stop in the stables or something, maybe have Eskel get his horse, but she led him directly out to the courtyard.

After a moment, Night came trotting around a corner, walking over to them with her tail held flagged. The demon horse was black as the night she was named for, and her eyes barely registered as red in the bright sun of the afternoon.

“Hi, Night,” Eskel said with a nod.

Iga didn’t say a word. She just _looked_ at Night. Clearly there was some kind of communication going on, because Night looked back at her. Then she turned her head to look at Eskel, and then looked back at Iga, this time with her head tilted in such a way that it implied chiding. 

Iga looked just a little chagrined.

“What?” Eskel asked.

“Don’t you worry your pretty witcher head,” Iga said, patting him on the arm. “Go on, Night will take you to our Master. The _fast_ way.”

Now Eskel was mildly concerned. Only mildly, though. Dracula had declared that no dark thing here could harm any of them, and Eskel was doubly protected by the mark on his chest. Whatever trip he was in for, it wouldn’t be dangerous. Unsettling, maybe. But not more than that.

“Thank you.” He nodded to them both, and then grabbed a handful of Night’s black mane and hauled himself up onto her back. Night was a large beast, big enough to hold a knight in full plate armor if she chose, but Eskel was very strong. He had no trouble getting himself up into place.

Before they could leave, Iga put her hand on his where it was still wrapped up in horse hair.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want that blow job now? Perhaps with Master watching? I bet he would be very pleased with that.” She smiled at him, and the expression was only a touch predatory.

The thought made just a touch of heat come to Eskel’s cheeks. He still shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but not today.”

Though it was a pretty nice idea.

“Maybe another day, then,” she said sweetly, and took a step back. Then she wiggled her fingers at him in a coy goodbye wave. “Bye bye, witcher.” 

Before he could say anything in response, red lines of power began to glow on Night’s hide, starting at the sides of her head and then rapidly expanding lower. In a heartbeat, she gathered up her weight and _leapt_. 

Eskel had traveled on Night’s back before, so he knew how she could teleport through space. It was still a startling experience, and more so now than the first time. Eskel found that he had become far, far more sensitive to magical energies after he’d gotten the bullshit partial-bond he had with Alucard. So now when Night readied for the teleport, he could actually _feel_ the power she gathered. 

There was a rush power and a brief sense of nothingness. 

Then his senses were clamoring for attention, trying to tell him everything about the new place he was in. The smell of paper, parchment and leather was all but overwhelming. There was an echo; the sound of Night’s claws hitting stone repeated softly through the room around them. All of that information flooded into his mind before his eyes had even registered the enormity of the space he was in.

It was a library. The biggest library Eskel has ever seen in his entire life. Hell, it was the biggest one he’d ever even _heard_ of.

The huge room was separated into smaller spaces with the use of huge panels of decorative iron fencing. There was a pair of curving steps on one end of it, framing enormous double doors and carved with figures that he couldn’t quite make out the details on. The stairs led to a second level of the library. Rows upon endless rows of bookcases stretched in every direction. There were even more levels above that, going up and up, with narrow walkways curling around the whole room and stretching across the empty space above him. Huge chandeliers hung from the distant, domed ceiling, crowned with glowing balls of fire instead of candles. The light they shed was so strong that it hurt his eyes if he looked at it directly. 

It was incredible. Eskel had never seen anything like it. Granted, libraries weren’t usually where witchers were welcome, but he’d traveled across many, many countries, and none of the places he’d been had anything as lavish as this. Perhaps Alucard’s tower in Castlevania City could boast something similar, but Eskel didn’t think so.

There were multiple fireplaces in the corners of the room. There was also a lot of furniture spread out near the bookcases. Tables with merrily glowing lamps, and huge, luxurious looking chairs and sofas had been arranged in front of the plentiful fireplaces. 

On one of the large sofas, he briefly saw the back of a familiar head before Night’s prancing and turning made him lose line of sight.

He had to tighten his knees around Night as she danced in a tight circle. She tossed her head as she moved and made a low, pleased sound that didn’t sound terribly horse-like. The last tendrils of red power faded from her hide. She was so obviously proud of herself that Eskel couldn’t help but pat her neck.

“Will you stop long enough to let me down, or do I have to jump off?” he asked after a few more moments of her frisking around.

“She could teleport under you if you tried jumping off.” Dracula’s voice was low, raspy, and amused all at the same time. 

Eskel looked over his shoulder and saw the vampire looking at them from over the back of the couch he was seated at. The edge of a big, leather-bound book was just barely visible in his hands.

Night reversed her circling and trotted towards Dracula, her muscles working under Eskel with the kind of energy that made him think she was aching for some real workout. He suspected chasing moles and the odd critter around the courtyard wasn’t nearly enough exercise for her. Maybe he should talk to Vesemir about getting her some exercise. Half of the damn holes in his garden were probably a product of her boredom. 

She stopped when she was close enough that she could cautiously extend her nose towards Dracula. While she might bowl over Vesemir or Eskel asking for pets, she was very shy and timid when asking for them from Dracula. 

Her muzzle stopped a few inches from him. She huffed hopefully. Dracula’s lips twitched and he put his hand briefly on Night’s nose. A shiver of happiness went through her at the small pat.

“You did well. Eskel is a nice distraction.”

Eskel decided to use that chance to get off of the demon horse. He jumped down and his heavy boots thundered as they hit the polished stone. 

It was impossible not to look up again at the vast space above him. The walkways that bridged across the huge room seemed to have been created with no logic in mind. Some were placed diagonally across the room, some straight. Others ramped up at odd intervals or stopped to circle around one of the room’s huge support pillars. It was incredibly odd and startlingly lovely.

He pulled his gaze back down to where Dracula was seated.

“Hopefully I’m not bothering you,” he said, gesturing at the book in Dracula’s hand. “I don’t know if you’re busy.”

That was a bit of a concern, after all. Surely Dracula had duties to attend to, although for the most part Eskel didn’t ask him what those were. Sometimes he felt like it was just better to leave well enough alone.

“Not so busy that I don’t welcome your company,” Dracula said easily. There was a hint of a wrinkle in his brow though; just the barest hint of confusion. “Why are you here?”

Eskel took a step forward, but not more than that. He was still a little unsure of if Dracula would be interested in being close right now. Although the thought of curling up to him while he read was a very appealing one. 

He shrugged a little. “Nothing urgent. Just wanted to see you.”

Dracula lowered the book he was holding down so that it was resting against his thighs.

“Oh, this is unusual.” He sounded pleased. His eyes skimmed over Eskel’s body.

Eskel somewhat self consciously wondered if his recent bath was obvious. A slight blush heated up his cheeks, and he looked away for a moment. Yeah. Dracula could probably smell the soap he used.

He swallowed and rubbed the scars on his face nervously. “Would you mind if I joined you? Or we could go somewhere else.” 

Something about the sheer size and ancient elegance of the room around them made Eskel feel a little off balance. He was far, far more used to the mud and dirt of the road than to gilded ironwork and vast shelves filled with who-knew-what lost knowledge. One part of him longed to spend some time looking through what was here, too. Assuming he could even read the languages that these books were written in. He was very fond of reading in his spare time, what little there was, and books were often the only company he had out on the road.

He tried getting a look at the text, but as he watched it, the letters shifted and blurred, crawling across the page as if they were alive. His eyes started hurting after only a moment and he had to close them. He pressed his fingers hard into the ache, hoping that would relieve the sting.

“It’s demon script,” Dracula said. “Fairly unpleasant to read.”

“Ah.” Eskel shook his head and tried to blink the irritation away. “Is that all that’s in this library? Or are there other types of books as well?” he asked, curious.

“I don’t know,” Dracula admitted with a small shrug. “I wasn’t the one to compile it. Carmilla owned it the longest, but it existed long before her.” He looked over the space, eyes following the levels climbing up and up. “I bring books here if I find any on my… outings.” He motioned to the book in his hands. The script wiggled across the page.

Eskel nodded and pointedly did not try to read it again. He knew that Dracula went out to other worlds, places where the castle touched. Sometimes he came back bloody and hurt. Apparently not every demon was under his control, and some needed to be persuaded. During his stint in Castlevania City with Geralt, Eskel had read a little bit about Carmilla, and none of it good. She had just as bloody a reputation as Dracula did there.

“So.” Eskel licked his lips. “Should Night and I head back to Kaer Morhen, or do you mind company here?” Dracula hadn’t answered him, and this place was a little beyond Eskel’s experience. He didn’t want to tread where he was uninvited, especially when this time it was Eskel seeking Dracula out. If Dracula prefered to keep their interactions on his terms, Eskel would deal with it.

Dracula turned to look at Night who was eyeing a life sized figure of a weeping angel distrustfully. She didn’t turn her head away from the sculpture but her ears swivelled towards Dracula attentively.

“You can go, Night, you did well.”

The demon horse neighed delightedly and trotted a little circle in place. Then those familiar red markings started gleaming on her hide again. The light curled into fanciful swirls along the sides of her head, down her neck, over her sides, and to her legs. Now that Eskel wasn’t actually seated on top of her, he could appreciate the patterns. He’d seen it before, but it was still impressive.

She reared up in place for a moment and then leaped, disappearing in a shiver of magic and a flash of red light that left spots dancing in front of Eskel’s eyes.

The prompt exit made Eskel huff out a laugh. “Guess I’m staying, huh.” He looked at Dracula and tilted his head a little to the side, a small smile curving on his lips. 

Even though the library was vast and beautiful, that wasn’t really why Eskel was here. He stepped over to where Dracula lounged on the sofa. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Dracula looked very pleased at Eskel’s question.

“The sofa is definitely big enough for two.” He patted the pillows beside him.

Warmth curled up in Eskel’s chest and his smile grew a little more. He sat down next to Dracula, shifting in close to his side. Even that little bit of contact through layers of armor and cloth felt great. Heat radiated from Dracula, and Eskel immediately slouched down, moving to lean his head on Dracula’s armored shoulder. Given the elaborate gold metal on Dracula’s coat, it was awkward, but Eskel couldn’t have cared less. His own armor and weapons were just as ill-suited to cuddling, making everything a little stilted. 

It absolutely didn’t matter. Being close was great.

Eskel shifted again. 

Alright, so it was more than a little awkward. Still didn’t matter. Already Dracula’s burning scent was wrapping around him, and his body next to Eskel’s was better than sitting next to a fire.

Dracula moved his arm then, lifting it up and putting it behind Eskel. He pulled Eskel closer, pressing him tight against his warm side.

That was good. Very good. Eskel’s eyes fluttered almost shut and he turned his head into Dracula’s coat. It always smelled so nice. Probably because it was made entirely from Dracula’s power, a scent that Eskel had come to love. 

“I’m glad to see you,” Eskel said quietly.

“I can see that,” Dracula closed his book and let it fall onto the floor with a loud thump. “It’s most pleasing.”

It didn’t take Eskel long at all to think about how he would much prefer if they didn’t have all that armor between them. Some skin contact would feel even better than the simple embrace they were already wrapped in. But the library’s vast space echoed above them, and Eskel was never really the type to enjoy an audience. 

While he thought it over, he turned his body sideways, facing Dracula enough that he could wrap an arm around Dracula’s waist. He slipped his hand right under Dracula’s coat, and suddenly wished that he hadn’t bothered to put his gloves back on.

“I think I’d like us to undress a little,” Eskel said softly, feeling the statement out as he spoke it aloud. The more he considered it, the more he wanted it. “Skin would be nice right now. But I don’t really want to be watched.” 

He glanced around the room. They were situated in one of the corners of the massive room and surrounded by that elaborate iron fencing, so it wasn’t quite as out in the open as it could have been, but there were doors positioned in various places along the walls. Lots of exits to watch.

“Oh really?” Dracula all but beamed at him.

“Can you make sure no one stumbles in and gets an eye full?” 

Given how Dracula had such intimate control over the castle, Eskel figured this wouldn’t be a difficult request. Worst come to worst, Dracula could just move them elsewhere, but it seemed more likely he would just alter this room to fit his desires.

“No one will disturb us.” Dracula nearly purred the words out.

The sudden clang of huge doors slamming shut, one after another, was jarring in a space that had previously only held the sound of their clothes rustling and the merry crackling of the logs in the fireplace to fill it. One after another, all of those huge entryways were closed. The sound of it was final in a way that didn’t need an explanation.

Eskel could feel it before he saw. The armored coat Dracula was so fond of started to dissolve into soft little motes of darkness. In a matter of heartbeats Eskel was pressed to Dracula’s naked, burning hot skin.

“You want me to cut your clothes off of you?” Dracula asked, aiming for a helpful tone and missing by a mile, mostly due to the anticipatory amusement seeping through.

Eskel mock glared at him a little, but he couldn’t stop the shiver that raced up his spine at the thought of it. “I don’t want to replace my armor again. It’s a pain.”

“I have only fond memories of the replacement process,” Dracula murmured.

Eskel thought about how long it had taken to find every new piece of armor, especially with Dracula asking him to try on and model every single one. That wasn’t terrible. Eskel liked armor, after all. But Dracula had insisted on Eskel trying on new clothes as well, including fine court garments. That had been an exercise in embarrassment, and one Eskel wasn’t keen on repeating.

“Well. The armor bit wasn’t so bad,” he said grudgingly. “But it’s easier if I don’t need to wait on gear getting made.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Dracula’s body and started unfastening his gear. His swords got placed next to them on the floor, within easy reaching distance, and the various belts and bits of armor got put in a pile. Once he was down to just his pants, he stood up and dropped the whole stack of it on a nearby chair. 

Gods, but he was cold. He knew the room wasn’t that chilly, but he _felt_ cold. 

When he turned back towards Dracula, he took a moment to pause and get an eyeful. Dracula looked good. Relaxed and pleased. He was nude from the waist up, and had let the rest of his armor disappear as well, leaving him in just his leather pants. For a moment, Eskel’s eyes got drawn to Dracula’s naked feet. It felt like such a vulnerable thing to see. A little hungry smile played on Dracula’s lips and his eyes shined like garnets in the light of the nearby fire.

Eskel stepped over, suddenly aware of how Dracula followed every movement like a hawk watching prey. 

“Lay down?” he asked. 

Dracula chuckled, sliding to lay down on the plush sofa. It was big enough he could do it easily, leaving enough space for Eskel to comfortably fit in beside him. He put one of his arms behind his head, stretching out and so clearly posing for Eskel it made him snicker. 

A touch of heat rose in Eskel’s cheeks too. Dracula was _posing for him_.

He walked over and eased himself onto the couch, laying down next to Dracula and pressing their bodies close together. The first touch was electric, and Eskel shifted eagerly in, wrapping his arms around Dracula’s middle and pressing his nose into Dracula’s throat. It was so warm, so gloriously warm, having this much skin to skin touch. Dracula smelled so good, and his body was scorching under Eskel’s hands. He could hear the steady beat of Dracula’s heartbeat, could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the heat radiating so fiercely from him. It was always astounding, that a vampire would be so alive.

“How does it feel to control space like this?” Eskel asked, shifting even closer to Dracula’s body.

“Painful, mostly,” Dracula said. His free hand came up to rest on Eskel’s back with his fingers stretched between Eskel’s shoulder blades.

_Painful?_ Eskel glanced up at him, a little worried. Then he ducked his head back down. Whatever pain or discomfort Dracula went through, Eskel didn’t think he could do anything about it. No matter how much he wanted to. 

He laid a soft kiss on Dracula’s throat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly.

“The castle will obey me, but it will make me pay for everything. Our currency is pain.”

“Everything?” Eskel asked, his voice hushed and quiet. “Even the small things?” _Like shutting all the doors to this room_. He didn’t say those words, but they were probably implied. 

“Yes,” Dracula said in an even tone. He didn’t sound worried or regretful about this. He sounded accepting. Eskel realized suddenly that he fiercely hated it. Hated the pain that Dracula seemed to live with.

Guilt washed through Eskel for a moment as he thought through the implications. Even this little request for privacy had caused Dracula to hurt. He knew that the castle, and everything in it, lived on Dracula’s power. They were bound, tied together in ways that Eskel didn’t even remotely have the knowledge to fathom. 

Given Eskel’s own experience with bonds and his knowledge of magic in general, it seemed likely that neither time nor distance would change anything for Dracula. He was the Lord of this place, with everything that entailed. 

Demons were uneasy subjects, too. Meekness and temperance were not high on the list of demonic traits. Eskel suspected that Dracula would have to keep a ruthless watch on what he controlled, if for no other reason than his subjects could be prone to rising up and trying to eat him whole. Even if Dracula did want to leave this place -- which Eskel couldn’t tell one way or the other -- he might not be able to for any significant amount of time if only because he had to keep his minions in line. 

A second thought occurred to him. 

Dracula said controlling this space was painful, that everything had a price in pain. But he’d moved the whole damn castle from another dimension to this world. 

What had _that_ cost him?

Eskel actually shuddered at the thought.

Dracula had gone missing for days after the castle moved. What kind of damage was enough to put him out of commission for days?

Eskel pulled Dracula in as tightly as he could and squeezed. His heart ached with the knowledge of how much pain Dracula had suffered. Alucard must have known what moving the castle had cost him. Those two knew each other better than anyone else. But Eskel was dead certain that Geralt had no idea.

“I didn’t mean to cause you distress.” Dracula started petting Eskel with slow, gentling movements. “I am used to physical pain by now,” he said, obviously trying to comfort Eskel and missing his mark. “The castle denizens feed on my power, but the castle itself feeds on pain.” Dracula shrugged. “It would have preferred to cause me _real_ anguish, but my anger has always been a barrier it couldn’t break through.”

“I know what it’s like to feel pain all the time,” Eskel said quietly. Pain was just a part of the Path, something that every witcher got accustomed to.

The stroking paused.

“You are damaged?” Dracula shifted under him, his upper body tensed and lifted a bit as if he was ready to throw Eskel off and look him over for hidden wounds.

Eskel shook his head. “Not right now; this has been an easy year for injuries. There have been times, though…” He shook his head, and ran a hand down Dracula’s side, apparently taking his turn to do the soothing. “The Path is hard. Sometimes there isn’t a chance to rest between jobs, and some of the places we go are rather dangerous.” He shrugged. “It’s not unusual to carry injuries every day for a whole season. Years, if luck goes bad. Heal and get hurt, heal and get hurt. The scars ache, too. Nothing to be done about that.”

Dracula harrumphed, clearly displeased.

“You witchers take my power very well as a medium for healing, you can just come and ask.” Dracula sounded grumpy. “Geralt does this thing too, hides his injuries like a wounded animal instead of just asking for help.”

“That’s an option?” Eskel asked, startled. He pulled back enough to look up at Dracula in surprise. “You’d just… heal us?”

“Not everybody,” Dracula said, resuming his petting. “But it’s definitely an option for you.” Then he rumbled out a pleased little hum. “I‘m sure we could come to an understanding on the healings.”

Eskel shivered and ducked his head, pressing it into Dracula’s chest again. “I’d rather not impose, or bargain myself into something worrisome.” He shook his head. “We have potions. We heal well.”

“Oh, Eskel,” Dracula hummed, “I am open to _all sorts_ of bargains.”

That just made Eskel snort. “I’m pretty sure I know what you’ve got your eyes on. Somehow I doubt you’ll take flowers in trade instead.” Eskel grumbled a little to himself, and then added, “Besides. I’d rather just give you the flowers without the bargaining.”

“... I’ve never gotten flowers,” Dracula said, his voice slow and thoughtful.

“You’d look great with Amaranth. Hellebores, too.” Eskel thought about all the different colors of flowers he collected. Some weren’t very impressive, but others were objectively quite lovely. “Some vines, maybe.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about flowers,” Dracula said, still petting Eskel’s hair.

Eskel hummed and arched into the pets. “I’ll find you something nice.”

“I guess I can accept those terms,” Dracula said thoughtfully, his fingers tugging at Eskel’s ponytail. The touch changed and then the cord that tied his hair together suddenly snapped, letting it fall everywhere. Dracula must have used his claws to cut the leather cord so quickly and cleanly.

“I don’t want anything in return for the flowers. I just want to give them to you to give them to you.” Eskel’s hair fell down around his face, hiding him from view. 

He thought about Dracula bedecked in flowers, blooms of all colors crowning him and spread out around him on red sheets. Dracula was intimidating enough that not a soul would say anything if he wore such things with his armor, but Eskel couldn’t help but picture him mostly undressed. It was softer. More appropriate, somehow, thinking about velvety petals rubbing against warm skin. 

Warmth stirred inside of him as he considered it, and he laid a gentle kiss on Dracula’s chest just below the collarbone.

Dracula’s petting slowed and then stopped.

“... You like the idea of me in flowers?” Dracula asked, going as far as to raise his head and do his best to look at Eskel in the eye.

“Yes.” Then Eskel paused a moment, trying to find the right thing to say. In the end, he couldn’t quite put to words just how big a part of his life flowers were. “I gather them always, every day. I have to for my potions, which are critical for survival. I know exactly which ones smell nice, feel good, and look amazing. Which ones will wilt and which ones stay fresh for days on end. I gather them all myself, personally. They’re… delicate in a way I will never be.” He shrugged with one shoulder, feeling a little self-deprecating. “It’s a personal thing. And thinking about you with that kind of gift around you is… attractive.”

“I… I don’t think I have anything like that, anything I know in such an intimate way.” Dracula fell quiet for a long moment before speaking again. “Maybe demons, but I have no wish to get to know them. They respond to my power and are obedient as long as I am the stronger one. Should they sense weakness, they would strike. That’s their nature. Knowing that doesn’t require me to… _know_ them.” Dracula fell silent again. He petted Eskel’s hair for a few long moments. “I envy you, I think.”

“I’ve never been envied for my botany skills before,” Eskel said, a smile twisting at his lips. “Alchemy, yes. But not the knowledge of plants. Everyone wants the power, and precious few care at all about the work put in to get it.” 

He nuzzled into Dracula’s chest, reveling in the warmth there. Finally, he felt heated through and through. 

“I’d be happy to share it though,” he continued. “That’s probably why I like the idea of you with flowers. It’s one of the only soft things I can give. Everything else that I am is dedicated to killing or surviving.”

“I know how that feels,” Dracula said. “I was raised for the sole purpose to fight and kill. Sometimes…” He trailed off, even his hand stilling.

“Sometimes it’s nice to be able to offer something other than death,” Eskel finished quietly. 

“I wonder, if I was a better human being, would she have chosen me over the greater good?” Dracula asked quietly.

He had to be talking about his wife. Eskel had heard a little bit about the matter, but only in the broadest of strokes. He knew that Dracula’s wife had died, had betrayed him somehow, and set him on the path to becoming what he was now. Eskel had never asked the details on it, certain in the knowledge that it was a tender subject for Dracula.

“Belief is a tricky thing,” Eskel said, unsure if he should speak up at all. He couldn’t leave Dracula’s pain unaddressed though. He didn’t have it in him. The need to try and comfort was too great. “People who want to believe something will ignore every other fact and action happening around them. Whatever happened, I don’t think it had anything to do with what kind of a person you were. Her decisions were on her.”

“She could have just asked,” Dracula said so quietly that Eskel only heard him thanks to his enhanced senses.

“Asking isn’t really that easy, either,” Eskel tried to keep his voice quiet, intimate as the subject demanded.

“You got better at it,” Dracula said, resuming his petting.

Heat burned across Eskel’s face.

“Makes one wonder what _else_ you might ask for?” Dracula was clearly teasing now. His amusement was audible in the rumble of his voice.

The blush on Eskel’s face burned doubly hot, and he pressed into Dracula’s throat. If he hid his face there, Dracula wouldn’t see how weirdly bashful that statement had made him. Dracula’s statement wasn’t really that far off track. Eskel had been considering asking for a little more.

“It’s easier, knowing that I’m allowed. That I might get what I want,” Eskel said quietly. Then he shook his head, frustrated. “I’m not saying it right.”

“Witchers are fearless, from what I observed. Do you really fear rejection that much?”

The question actually took a little tension out of Eskel’s body, as he thought it over. “No. It’s not fear. It’s more like resignation. It’s hard to remind myself that I can have higher expectations and that’s… reasonable.”

He ran a hand up Dracula’s side, caressing the muscles all the way up to the back of Dracula's shoulder. Then he laid a little kiss on Dracula’s chest, soft and gentle. 

“You have definitely never met anyone like me,” Dracula insisted. 

At some point, the hand that he’d been using to pet Eskel’s head began stroking the whole length of Eskel’s back, down to the place where his belt rode low on his hips. And Eskel hasn’t even noticed the shift.

“No. I haven’t,” Eskel said roughly. 

The thought of Dracula, half naked and laying on a bed of petals, ran through Eskel’s head again. He took a deep breath in, taking in Dracula’s scent. Then he ran his hand down Dracula’s back again and curled his fingers over Dracula’s hipbone. He thumbed the sharp line of the bone, a little in awe of how good that stretch of skin felt.

Dracula purred under him; it was more vibration than sound.

“I want to touch you more,” Eskel said, his voice low and harsh; a side effect of the damage to his throat. Soft words were beyond him.

“More like how?” Dracula asked with a kind of predatory interest in his stillness.

Eskel continued to stroke over Dracula’s hip with his thumb as he considered things. His breath was slow and measured, and his lips were so close to the hot skin of Dracula’s collarbone that he could almost taste it. He thought about what it felt like to hold Dracula in his arms in the bath they’d shared, to be able to savor and explore all the intimate places that Eskel usually held back from. He thought about what it felt like to hold Dracula’s thick cock in his hand, and the little jolt of pleasure he’d gotten when he noticed that his exploration had caused Dracula to drip with excitement. He thought about the kisses they’d shared on a warm, lazy afternoon in the sun, and the feel of Dracula’s mouth on his neck. 

All of his reservations and concerns swirled in the back of his head, but he pushed them aside for the moment. Dracula’s body was warm against him, present and real, and that was very nice indeed.

Little stirrings of interest swirled up inside of him. Eskel wasn’t fully hard, not even close, but that bit of arousal was enough to carry him through his request.

“I want to use my hands and get you off,” Eskel said very quietly. He rubbed his lips over Dracula’s skin, and soaked in the feeling of the steady heartbeat there. “I want to try it out. See what it’s like to touch you, to make you feel good.” 

He licked his lips, and his mouth was so close that his tongue just barely touched Dracula’s skin in the process. It took more effort than he wanted to admit to not follow the act through and keep licking. 

“I want to kiss you. Touch and lick your neck, your chest.” A shudder crawled up Eskel’s spine, and he dug his fingers into Dracula’s hip. The next part was harder for him to say. Telling a partner he wanted to please them wasn’t bad. He very much enjoyed pleasing his partners. Admitting that he really wanted something more than just the act of pleasure in return was far, far more difficult. “I want you to hold me afterwards. Touch me. Say nice things to me, tell me I’m… good. That you’re pleased with me.” He paused a moment, and then added, “If that’s true. Only if it’s true.”

“In general, I’m very pleased with you, Eskel,” Dracula murmured, sounding delighted already.

A little pleasure curled up inside of him at those words. Eskel arched a tiny bit into Dracula’s petting. “I like hearing you say it.”

“Remaining passive is not something I usually allow,” Dracula said slowly.

Eskel remembered Geralt complaining that Dracula always turned things so that all attention was either on Geralt or on Alucard and very rarely allowed himself to be the focus, and even rarer allowed himself to be pleasured.

“Would you for me?” Eskel asked, feeling nervous butterflies flutter in his stomach.

Dracula rumbled a quiet sound, clearly contemplating Eskel’s request.

“You do wake a completely new host of appetites in me,” the vampire said. “Are you ready to sate them if they raise up their heads?”

A shiver worked through Eskel as he thought about the possibilities. “...I’m not ready for full on fucking.” 

He paused a moment, and really considered it. He didn’t think whatever happened would be bad. It was something of a surprise to realize that he trusted Dracula not to do anything Eskel wouldn’t truly be alright with. 

Couldn’t hurt to feel the situation out a little, though. 

“Do you mean feeding? Or marking?” 

Those were both things Eskel knew Dracula liked a great deal. Blood was definitely a craving, but marking his territory seemed almost as instinctual.

Dracula tangled his fingers into Eskel’s hair and pulled, gently forcing Eskel’s head up, enough to look him in the eye.

“I like it when I give you orders and you obey them,” Dracula said quietly, stretching his thumb to touch Eskel’s lips. “I like it when you _serve_.”

The world got a touch hazy and Eskel shivered hard. His mouth was so dry. “Be careful what you ask for. I won’t want to say no.”

The last few months had shown Eskel that he was willing to go to ridiculous lengths to do what Dracula asked of him. It was a little frightening how easy it was to do so. 

“Even if you asked me to do something I really didn’t want to do, it would be…” Eskel shivered again and let out a nearly pained sigh. “Hard. To not do it.”

Dracula’s eyes got brighter, the red glowing from the inside before they backed down and dimmed again. The thumb stroking over Eskel’s lower lip stilled and pressed slightly at the soft skin.

“My priorities are fairly simple,” Dracula murmured. “I will attempt not to break you.”

Eskel tried to nod, but his hair was still held tight. “Alright. Alright.” He swallowed hard, and licked his lips. He did it unconsciously, but Dracula still had a thumb on Eskel’s lip, and that little lick gave him the barest taste of skin. Eskel had to stop and close his eyes for a moment, just to focus on breathing right. 

“Alright,” he said again. He looked back up to Dracula, his eyes wide and his heart pounding in his ears. “I’ll try.”

“You are so good Eskel,” Dracula purred, sounding both smug and pleased. “ _Mine_ , all mine now.”

The praise felt as good as Dracula’s hands on him, and Eskel went boneless in Dracula’s grip. He didn’t even care that this meant his head was being held up by his hair. It was fine. Dracula had a hold on him. Somewhere along the line, Eskel had lost his tight grip on Dracula’s body. Instead he ran his hands across the hard muscle of Dracula’s sides. It was an absent movement, lazy almost, done solely for the pleasure of feeling their skin rub together.

He could feel just how hard Dracula was. His cock bulged in his pants, and pressed up hot and needy against Eskel’s hip. Eskel felt warm, too, but too much of his attention was taken up by Dracula for him to pay much attention to that.

Dracula loosened his hold on Eskel’s head, letting his hand slide to the back of Eskel’s neck and squeezing there firmly. The movement seemed possessive and pleased all at once. Then Dracula stretched out more comfortably on the sofa, deliberately striking a pose. He was clearly settling himself to wait for Eskel.

“I am glad we have this settled,” Dracula purred, loosening his grip and then squeezing again, each time waking up a shiver.

It took more than a minute for Eskel to scramble his brain back into functioning. In that time, all he could do was breathe, his face pressed into Dracula’s chest. When he finally could put two thoughts together, he had to wonder at himself. What the hell had he agreed to? And why did it sound so appealing? 

Then another shiver worked through him as he thought about what Dracula might tell him to do.

That was a dangerous line of thinking, and Eskel shoved it aside to focus on the present. He closed his eyes and tried to bring himself under control. Rather than get worked up, both with anxiety and interest, Eskel focused on the feel of Dracula’s body. Its warmth. How soft the skin was. The sensation of the callused hand at his neck and the scent of burning embers and blood.

After another minute, Eskel felt steady enough to move. He shifted to the side a bit, giving himself room to see the full length of Dracula’s bare chest next to him. 

Without the armored belt, the pants looked very ordinary, just brown leather worn enough it fit like a second skin, closed in front by a series of laces. All he needed to do was to unlace them and he would be faced with Dracula’s cock.

Eskel debated for a moment, and decided to work up to it. He enjoyed pleasing his partners, piling little pleasure on little pleasure until they were crying for release. It seemed unlikely that Dracula would allow it to go that far, but Eskel did like the idea of lavishing some attention on him. 

So he started by running his hand up Dracula’s chest, pausing to thumb over a nipple. The little bud tightened up under his touch, tempting Eskel into playing a little more. While he let his hand explore, he leaned up to put his lips against Dracula’s throat. Dracula’s scent was so strong there, and Eskel loved how it seemed like he was shielded by Dracula’s power when he was tucked in close like that. 

“I want to use my mouth on your neck,” he breathed out. “May I?”

“Witchers,” Dracula sighed with a smile. “More balls than anything.” He stretched his head back, letting Eskel get access at his neck.

Eskel had to snort in laughter, even as he rubbed his nose over the soft skin of Dracula’s throat. “The way you talk about us makes us seem like the craziest, stupidest group of loonies in the world.”

“Well...” Dracula hummed and Eskel licked the vibration right off his throat. “If the shoe fits.” He dragged his hand down Eskel’s back, fingers spread to touch more of Eskel’s skin. “I find that charming and endlessly surprising.”

Eskel licked over Dracula’s pulse, and fought the urge to bite down. Given that he wasn’t trying to drive Dracula to frenzy, that probably wouldn’t be wise. 

It was still tempting.

“We may… have a slightly skewed outlook on risk,” Eskel allowed. Then he pressed his lips in for a kiss. After only a second, he opened his mouth to suck very gently on the skin there. It wouldn’t even be enough to leave a mark on a regular human, let alone Dracula. But Eskel liked the taste, the feel of Dracula’s skin in his mouth.

“You going to bite?” Dracula asked and Eskel could feel the vibration of his words through his lips.

“I want to,” Eskel said quietly. He blew across the wet skin next to his mouth, hoping to get a shiver in response. “But I won’t. You said you’d fuck me if I did. Still not ready for that.” He shrugged a little. “This is kind of more a… a trying out kind of thing for me. I want to see how you feel. How it makes me feel.”

“Thought you might have forgotten about that little fact.”

“Hope springs eternal,” Eskel said, amused. Then he moved down, pressing his lips lower on Dracula’s neck, and sucking again. As he carefully, sweetly teased with his mouth, Eskel softly rubbed at Dracula's nipple. He knew that women liked a variety of things done to their nipples and breasts, but he wasn’t sure yet what Dracula enjoyed. So he started slow, with rubs and light pinches and pulls. Enough to make that little nub tighten up and stand at attention.

He liked how Dracula’s pecs filled his hand, the firmness of the flesh, the sheer power of Dracula’s body. It was exciting in a strange and new way. 

Eskel shifted down a little farther, pressing soft kisses to Dracula’s chest. The petting on Eskel’s head kept up, but aside from that, Dracula was still and quiet under him. On one hand, this meant Dracula was doing his best to let Eskel explore, which was very nice. But on the other, it meant Eskel wasn’t sure how Dracula was taking his attentions.

“Do you like this?” Eskel asked quietly. “What I’m doing. Does it feel good?”

Dracula was silently watching him. Geralt had mentioned once during a night of drinking how quiet Dracula was in bed, how pulling a single sigh out of him was like earning a medal.

“Yes,” the vampire said after a moment, “I like what you are doing.” Then he smirked. “I especially like watching you do it.”

“Yeah?” Eskel glanced up and tilted his head. “You like the look of things as much as the feel?”

It was a little strange to think of it, since Eskel was hardly pretty. But Dracula and Alucard both liked how he looked, so maybe it wasn’t so far fetched.

“It’s not just about the looks,” Dracula said, shifting to lay down more comfortably. He kept one hand behind his head, with the other resting casually at Eskel’s waist. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Tell me. So I know how to please you.” Eskel looked down and laid another kiss on that pale, perfect skin in front of him. His cheeks heated up a little at the request. “If you want,” he added, suddenly a little uneasy with how demanding he’d sounded.

“I like what you are doing, because it’s you doing it,” Dracula said firmly. “I don’t let people in this close anymore.”

The light blush on Eskel’s face spread and for a moment Eskel’s whole upper body burned with it. He pressed his forehead into Dracula’s chest, as both pleasure and disbelief briefly warred inside of him. It only took a moment for the reaction to settle, but he was still a little stunned by the compliment.

“Did you ever?” Eskel asked.

That made Dracula laugh.

“I suppose I hadn’t.”

Eskel nodded. “I know what that’s like,” he said quietly. 

“You going to show me the famous witcher experience?” Dracula teased, letting just the barest hint of claws drag over the naked skin of Eskel’s side. 

A shiver raced through Eskel at the feel of it, and he snorted in amusement. “Need I remind you that you’re the first man I’ve touched like this? If you wanted _experienced_ you should have stuck with Geralt. I’m still trying to figure this out.”

“You are hardly _virginal_ ,” Dracula said in a low purr. “You know your way around flesh.”

That made Eskel laugh a little more. “True enough. Though…” He thought about the sheer girth of Dracula’s dick and where the vampire wanted to put it, and Eskel found himself shaking his head. “I’m having a lot of sympathy for virgins everywhere right about now.”

That pulled another chuckle out of Dracula.

“This is no laughing matter,” Eskel mock-insisted, hoping to prolong the laughter.

“It is,” Dracula said, still chuckling, “considering how much of my mass and size I lost after turning into what I am now.”

“Oh _gods_ ,” Eskel said, suddenly picturing Dracula’s body being even larger and more impressive. “Was that your favored weapon? Did your sword pale in comparison? Gods, you said you hadn’t killed anyone on your cock yet, but now I have to wonder.”

How big _was_ it? Fuck.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Dracula scoffed, making Eskel choke on the sheer damn irony of _him_ saying those words. “Besides, Marie never complained.”

Eskel smiled. This was the first time he’d heard Dracula talk about his wife in a way that had nothing to do with the horrors and heartache that befell them. 

“I’ve heard nothing but very pleased reviews from Geralt and Alucard, too,” he admitted, hoping to keep the good mood going.

“Besides the sex demons I experimented with after I got the castle, those are the only lovers I’ve ever had.” Dracula shrugged. “Sex outside of a relationship was never something that interested me.”

“Casual sex is basically the only time witchers get to touch someone without killing them.” Eskel shrugged as well. He ran his lips back and forth over the skin right under Dracula’s collarbone and hummed in thought. “We all hit the brothels pretty hard. Or used to anyways. Geralt doesn’t at all any more, for obvious reasons.” He left a small kiss on Dracula’s chest. 

Eskel didn’t say how he, too, had once been a regular for working girls wherever he went, but he’d mostly stopped at this point. Oh he’d given it a try after his return from Castlevania City. Once or twice was all he could stomach, for a variety of reasons. Most of which he didn’t want to think about or look at too closely.

“I don’t think I liked touch too much, before.” Dracula admitted. “Didn’t even like company most of the time.”

That was something Eskel could relate to. He had a complicated relationship himself with touch. Always had.

“And now?” he asked.

“When I took in Laura’s blood, things changed. The one thing common to all demons is _hunger_. Hunger for pleasure, for pain, for destruction or riches. I am not unaffected.” Dracula ran his hand over Eskel’s side again. “I’m much more prone to flights of fancy now, pleasure is a bigger thing.” He shook his head dismissively. “Or maybe it’s because there’s no more all encompassing mission to take up everything I am.”

Eskel thought that over for a moment. Then he smiled a little, and scooted down to lay a long, wet lick right over Dracula’s nipple. “Well, I’m glad you like touch now.” He licked again, slower this time, so he could feel how that nipple tightened up under his tongue. “And I’m glad you like me doing it.”

“I do,” Dracula rumbled, sounding pleased and relaxed.

Eskel liked that sound very much, and he bent his attention to Dracula’s chest in hopes that he might get another similar happy comment. He licked over the firm swell of Dracula’s pectoral muscle, laving up every last bit of salt on the skin. Then he brushed his lips over Dracula’s nipple, and carefully put his mouth over it. He wanted to bite, very badly, but knew he shouldn’t. So instead he did what he would have with a woman; he sucked. 

It earned him a slow touch all along his side. The feel of warm skin was followed by just the barest hint of pressure from Dracula’s claws, surely leaving tiny marks on him.

The gesture was both appreciative and a warning, Eskel thought. A sign that he was edging around Dracula’s control. He eased up, turning the sucking into a soft kiss. He wanted to make Dracula feel good; he didn’t want to push so far that Dracula insisted on sex _right this second_. 

Eskel ran a hand down Dracula’s side. He paused at the waist a moment, and ran a finger under the waistband of Dracula’s leather pants. The material was thick, soft, and well worn. It was just as warm as Dracula’s skin, and Eskel couldn’t help but run his hand down Dracula’s muscular thigh. He could feel the muscle twitch under his touch. He wrapped his hand around Dracula’s leg, sliding under and urging Dracula’s knee up. In part to give him more room, but also because he liked the feel of Dracula’s leg pressed against his side.

While he laid soft kisses on Dracula’s chest, he let his hand roam. He caressed over the leather clad knee resting up against the back of the sofa now, and then slid down the inner thigh, over Dracula’s groin. He cupped the bulge, rubbed a thumb over the hot leather there, and traced the outline of Dracula’s cock under his pants. Heat radiated off of him, and Eskel shuddered at the knowledge of what he was doing. Some strange mix of interest and nerves and a confusing, fluttery feeling welled up in his stomach as he cautiously explored.

He relished the feel of the living flesh under his hand and every reaction his touch caused, the way Dracula’s body subtly twitched and how his stomach sucked in and tensed briefly.

It was unexpectedly wonderful to feel Dracula react to him. Eskel shifted in place, squirming just a little in satisfaction. 

He trailed his fingers up to the lacings of Dracula’s pants. 

“I want to undress you,” Eskel said. Again, his voice had gone rough and low as he breathed the words out over Dracula’s chest. “May I undress you?”

Not only did it seem polite to ask, just to make sure he wasn’t over stepping, but Eskel also thought Dracula might enjoy the asking of permission.

“Oh, I am liking this game more and more.” Dracula shifted to have a better look at Eskel face. “Yes,” he added, watching Eskel with dark eyes.

That feeling of being watched sent a shiver through Eskel. It wasn’t something he normally enjoyed, but knowing it was Dracula watching him wasn’t so bad. Knowing that Dracula was pleased made it better.

He lifted himself up a few inches and laid his hand flat on Dracula’s groin, palm right over the full length of his cock. It was so warm in his hand, so ready for anything Eskel wanted to do. 

For a moment he was torn between instincts. He wanted to strip Dracula down, rub and touch him until he was crying. Make him come over and over. But at the same time he wanted to please, to allow Dracula to direct him, to let this be a type of worship. 

It was confusing to be caught between desires. He always took control with women. Always. But Dracula had always been the one in control with their interactions.

Dracula growled, a low, quiet sound that vibrated right through his chest.

“Scared?” 

“Torn,” Eskel corrected. “If you were a woman, I’d just… take you. As I like, knowing that you’d love every second. But I don’t know if you’d love it, any of it, and I can’t ever picture you allowing that anyways. And…” Eskel ducked his head, hiding in his falling hair. “You make me feel things I don’t really… know how to deal with.”

Eskel shook his head and began unlacing Dracula’s pants, at least pretending to have some confidence.

“You have one of those yourself,” Dracula nodded at his cock, “what do you like?”

Eskel hummed as he picked at the lacings. “All kinds of things, I suppose.” Then he smiled, small and hopefully a little tempting. “I’ll show you.”

“I can’t wait,” Dracula said with a hum.

Once all the lacings were open, just the top of Dracula’s cock was visible. Eskel rubbed his thumb over the exposed skin there, back and forth. It was so soft and firm at the same time, and he enjoyed the feel of it more than he expected.

“I’d cut you out of your pants, but I left my knives over there.” Eskel nodded towards his pile of gear in the chair nearby. “I don’t really want to stop touching you long enough to go get one.”

“You do have claws,” Dracula pointed out helpfully.

Eskel snorted. “Claws that never show up or go away when I want them to. They might make giving a handjob pretty awkward too.” He raised an eyebrow at Dracula.

“I could help you get them out,” Dracula purred, “and then make them go away.” Dracula wasn’t even trying to pretend this wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience to him.

Eskel narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but kept up the soft stroking on the base of Dracula’s cock. 

“You like to piss me off until my claws come out, and then tease me to insanity before making them go away. None of that is gonna make me want to jerk you off.”

Dracula’s face was the closest to pouting Eskel ever saw him.

“They are very cute claws.”

“Unless you have a nicer way of helping me with them, I’m getting up to get a knife,” Eskel said flatly. 

Dracula made a little moue of regret.

“You could just work those laces out,” Dracula invited. “I’m sure a witcher such as you won’t be defeated by a few strings of leather.”

Eskel snorted in amusement. “You do like to prick the ego.” He shook his head and smiled. “Yeah, I can manage.”

He ran his hands along the waistband of the pants, working them down a little bit. Then he slid a hand under the material, reaching back and getting a firm handful of Dracula’s ass. 

“Very nice,” he said quietly, squeezing on the firm muscle there. 

Then he slid his hand along the crack there, easing his hand down, once, before bringing it up to grab on to the pants waistband. He pulled, dragging the pants down over the swell of Dracula’s ass.

It was very pretty, so very nice to think of Dracula’s bare skin on the soft fabric of the sofa. Eskel smiled at it, and let himself enjoy the stretch of newly exposed skin by running his hand up and down, from the small of the back down to a full handful of ass.

Dracula shifted his legs, enough that Eskel fell easily between them, most of his weight resting against one of Dracula’s legs. He could feel the power of that muscle and the warmth that poured off of him. Gods, but he was hot in every sense of the word.

Eskel swallowed and shifted his hands to free Dracula’s cock. He swallowed again when he finally got an unrestricted look at it. Thick and long, it lay against Dracula’s belly. The skin was flushed pink, small veins visible under the tightly stretched skin. Eskel just looked for a while, at the way the flared head topped off the thick shaft. The scent of him was much more intense now. His perfume of burning embers and magic was now accented by musk, sweat, and just the tiniest hint of precome.

Eskel wanted to touch. Just how much he wanted to surprised him. He swallowed hard, licked his lips, and breathed in deeply, savoring the scent in the air. Very gently, he slid his hand up the length of Dracula’s cock and wrapped his fingers around it. 

So thick. Firm, but silky soft. He stroked down, pulling the foreskin away from the head completely. The texture of the skin on the glans would be a little different than the shaft, he knew this, but it was still impossible to resist testing out that difference with a gentle exploring thumb. That got him a little inhale. He saw the movement of Dracula’s chest more than he heard the sound.

“If I kiss it, are you going to be able to let me do only that?” Eskel asked hoarsely. “Blowjob’s not on the menu today. But. I… I’d like to give you a kiss.”

It was very tempting. Tempting enough that Eskel couldn’t take his eyes off of Dracula’s cock, not even for long enough to catch the look on Dracula’s face. But Eskel wouldn’t press Dracula past his limits. 

“Hmm, yes. Put your lips on me.” Dracula said in a low purr.

“Yes,” Eskel said. The word was barely an exhale of breath. 

He leaned down and placed the softest of kisses on the side of the shaft, kissing Dracula’s cock reverently like he might a fair lady’s hand. The skin was hot on his lips and the full length of it twitched in Eskel’s hand, jumping to attention. 

That was so nice, he couldn’t help but shift up and leave another tiny little kiss right on the wide head, right next to where his thumb rested. It was an act of worship he realized, and he was shockingly satisfied with it. The gesture was about more than pleasure. How much more, he couldn’t quite put a name to it yet.

Dracula’s hand was tight on his shoulder, another tiny sign that what Eskel was doing was affecting him.

Eskel shuddered and bit his lip, feeling a little overwhelmed. He had to dig the fingers of his free hand into the sofa cushions next to Dracula’s hip just to stay steady. Then hand on Dracula’s cock he kept still and firm. 

He took a quick breath and settled himself. 

Slowly, he started stroking up and down the shaft of Dracula’s cock. Now that he had a chance to really feel and look it over, he noticed it was only a little longer than his own. Much thicker, though, and Eskel knew he himself wasn’t lacking on that front. It was a fair handful, solid and full at the base. The head was even wider, too, and Eskel couldn’t help but spend a little time carefully exploring every curve of it. Just a little precome was leaking out. Eskel wiped it up with a finger. That little bit of wetness on his sword calluses reminded him of how rough his hands were.

“Should I get oil for you?” Eskel asked, barely getting the growled words out. He swallowed and tried again. “I like oil, when I touch myself. My hands are pretty rough.”

“I’m enjoying your hands,” Dracula said, the rasp harsher in his voice. “But oil could be nice, especially one of those nice smelling ones.” 

Dracula let go of Eskel’s shoulder. He reached to the side, off the sofa, and froze. A long moment passed as he waited, his eyes never once leaving Eskel.

The dark shadows from under the sofa spread out, leaking like blood from an open wound and coiling up beneath Dracula’s waiting hand. The shadows darkened and coalesced into physical things. Tiny, twisting tendrils reached out and held themselves a hair's breadth away from Dracula’s fingers. They made Eskel think of hungry dogs, and of the hellhounds slavering at Dracula’s feet.

They surged up suddenly and enveloped half of Dracula’s hand for a solid second before pulling away stickily, unwilling to part with his skin. When the shadows fell away, Eskel saw Dracula holding an ornate bottle of thick liquid. 

There were occasions where Dracula's power didn’t much faze Eskel. Most of the time, his decades of monster hunting worked against him and he couldn’t help but have some kind of defensive reaction. Right now, that simple display left Eskel a little breathless. 

He was strangely reminded of how he’d leaned into Dracula right after Steingard’s dungeon had been burnt to slag. Or of the feel of burning in his lungs when he soothed Dracula’s rage at Geralt’s attempted assassination. It wasn’t fear that bubbled in his heart and smoldered in his stomach. _What_ it was, exactly, he couldn’t say. Too warm for admiration, too soft for lust. 

He set that thought aside and looked at the bottle. Then looked down to where Dracula’s pants were still mostly on him. 

“Let me finish undressing you,” he said. “More room.” Eskel tilted his head and trailed a hand down Dracula’s bare hip and thumbed over the hinge of the joint. He took in how Dracula was half sprawled, hair spread over the pillows, pants in disarray, and cock flushed and waiting. “Though you do look good like this. All half dressed and tousled. A vision.” 

Dracula smirked at him. “Sweet talker.” 

Eskel had to grin, and happiness, light and sweet, bubbled up in his chest. “It’s true, though.” He let his gaze roam over the pale muscles of Dracula’s chest and down to his thick cock and powerful thighs. That body would only look better surrounded by blooms. “Maybe red cosmos. Nasturtium. Roses are overused.” He sniffed dismissively. “Though they do smell nice. You would look so pretty on a bed of flowers.” Eskel looked up to Dracula's burning eyes. “I don’t think any of it would do you justice, though. Nothing I could pick would be half as impressive as you.”

Before Dracula could answer, Eskel grabbed ahold of Dracula’s pants, right where the lacings looped through the material. He pulled the laces out completely and then leaned down and _bit_ into the leather. He was hyper-aware of how his hair and face just barely brushed Dracula’s cock and balls. The heat radiating off of them was enough that he could still feel it, even though they weren’t really touching.

Just to make sure he had a good tear, he bit again, parting the leather completely for an inch or two. 

Then he grabbed the material on either side of the tear and _ripped_ , tearing the pants right down the middle of their seat. A second pull separated the garment into two parts, and Eskel was left smiling in smug satisfaction. Everything that mattered was completely free of covering, giving Eskel whatever access he wanted.

“So fierce,” Dracula purred, his voice low and raspy.

“You like teeth,” Eskel said. 

He put one hand on Dracula’s hip, just something to steady himself. With the other he petted up and down the length of Dracula’s body. From the chest down across the firm abs, then further over that hard, flushed cock, and then down to cup his heavy balls. Each touch felt delightfully hot, and Eskel almost felt like he was feeling more than just skin. There was the sensation of Dracula’s energy right there, too. It tingled across his senses, and he couldn’t resist stroking the full length of Dracula’s torso again.

“Yes.” Dracula turned the word into almost a hiss. The muscles of his stomach tightened briefly before relaxing again. Aside from that, he kept himself still.

The encouragement and obvious enjoyment made Eskel’s body tighten in pleasure. He finally pried his eyes away from the body in front of him, and looked up to capture Dracula’s gaze.

“May I oil you up?” he asked quietly. His mouth felt dry and it was difficult not to lean in and follow the request up with a kiss.

Dracula licked his lips and reached for Eskel, his hand sliding behind Eskel’s neck. He stretched his thumb to touch Eskel’s bottom lip.

“Kiss it first,” he rumbled, his eyes watching Eskel with intensity that felt like a physical weight.

Eskel lowered his eyes, feeling his stomach tighten and his heartbeat pound loud in his ears at the order. Because it was an order, not a request.

He slid his hand up the shaft of Dracula’s cock, again bringing his thumb to rest on the edge of the head. So warm. It was so warm. His breath came out in a sharp, shuddering pant and he leaned down. 

Right before his lips touched, he paused and looked up to Dracula. He knew his eyes were a little wide, and his breath was a little tight in his chest. Some mix of half realized desire, nerves, and something yet unnamed churned in his gut. Every muscle felt drawn up tight.

Dracula was still tense, head raised up and hand heavy on the back of Eskel’s neck. His dark hair was messy and in his face, strands falling into his eyes in ways that looked pretty but would drive Eskel insane. It hid a lot of his expression, cast shadows onto his face, and made him all the more mysterious. Dracula waited. Eskel realized that he was watching to see what he would do. 

It was strangely alluring to have Dracula’s eyes on him like that. He felt both exposed and desired, left bare to Dracula’s hunger.

Very gently, he pressed his lips to the head of Dracula’s cock, his eyes fluttering closed as he did so. The touch was hot and Eskel could feel the spark of heat it caused race through his whole body. He moved his mouth just a tiny bit over, and kissed again. The scent of musk and precome was heavy in the air and this time Eskel felt a little bit of wetness on his lips, too.

It was instinct to lick his lips the moment he pulled away, to taste that little bit of bitterness and suck his lower lip clean. 

Finally he opened his eyes again, and he looked up to Dracula, hopeful and wide eyed. He’d done what was asked of him and now he found himself breathless for some indication of Dracula’s pleasure.

“Very good,” Dracula praised him. His thumb was back at Eskel’s bottom lip. It pressed in, just a little, and Eskel pushed his tongue to meet it. He licked at the salty skin almost on instinct, his eyes never leaving Dracula’s burning red gaze.

He leaned into Dracula’s hand and dug his fingers into Dracula’s hip. Whatever he’d been planning slipped out of his mind as he waited for whatever Dracula might say next. All the while, he licked at the thumb on his lip with tiny little laps of his tongue. The pleasure in Dracula’s words curled up his spine and settled into a happy haze around him.

“You can oil it up now,” Dracula said with that low rasp that Eskel was learning to love. He pulled his thumb away from Eskel’s lips, dragging it over Eskel’s cheek briefly. He didn’t take his hand away from the back of Eskel’s neck, letting it rest there, heavy and possessive.

It took a minute for the words to sink in. Eskel absently licked his lips and scrambled to get his brain working again. The firm pressure of the hand on his neck was extremely reassuring. 

Eventually, he nodded. Then he took a breath and nodded again. This was fine. He could do this. 

Even though originally this whole thing had been Eskel’s idea, to see if he liked doing sexual things with Dracula, the purpose was starting to blur in his mind. He knew he wanted to make Dracula feel good. Very, very good, if he could manage it. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to clear it a bit more. 

Oiling. That’s right. He was going to oil Dracula up.

Eskel ran his hand up and down Dracula’s hip. 

“You should let me give you a full body massage one day,” he said. Fuck, but it was significantly harder than expected to speak like a sane person. The words were thick on his tongue and it took way longer than it should have to piece that sentence together.

“I should?” Dracula rumbled.

Eskel nodded. The talking was helping him start to think again. “I’m pretty good at it.” He smirked, and looked at Dracula from under his lashes. “I like turning my partners into a puddle of pleasure. That's a nice way to start.”

“Hmm,” Dracula reached down for the little bottle and put it onto his stomach. “I would like to watch you turn liquid with pleasure. Maybe have one of the pretty succubi bring you to orgasm while I watch.”

All of the air left Eskel in a rush as he pictured that. It was far more appealing than he’d expected. Given that Iga mentioned the very same thing earlier, he had to wonder if she’d been dropping ideas into Dracula’s ear. 

He gave himself a minute to really mull the idea over.

“Iga does owe me a blow job,” he said roughly. “I’d want you touching me. Holding me,” he added after a minute. “Sex with her is just sex. If you’re there, it’s more. I’m…” he shook his head back and forth, unable to find the right words. “You make me weak.”

There was no way Eskel would want to be so vulnerable in front of Iga, not without Dracula there keeping him safe. Making sure he was cared for.

“I would love to touch you when that happens,” Dracula said, looking pleased.

“Alright. Maybe, then,” Eskel said. 

He reached for the little bottle of oil from where Dracula had laid it on his stomach. The glass container was beautiful. It was a heavy thing, probably cut crystal, and it had gold filigree spiraling down from the metal cap. He opened it and took a sniff. Floral, but not overpowering. He couldn’t identify some of the notes in the scent, but others were flowers that he was familiar with. He paid careful attention to the fragrance, committing it to memory. At some point he might make his own blend for Dracula, and he wanted to take note of any preferences.

He poured some on his hand. Then he replaced the cap on the bottle and set it aside, all the while rubbing his oiled fingers together to get the oil warm. As soon as his other hand was free, he rubbed both hands together briskly, warming the oil further.

The scent of flowers bloomed around them, bringing a small smile to Eskel’s face. 

Dracula had been very patient to wait and let Eskel do this. Patience should be rewarded. Eskel smoothed one hand over Dracula’s cock, stroking up until he could curl his fingers over the top and rub his palm over the head. He went slow. His goal was pleasure, not overstimulation. After one full circle over the head, he repeated the process, this time with the other hand. 

Dracula’s cock twitched and swelled in his hand. The skin grew even warmer, proof of the pleasure he was causing. Dracula’s hand kept tightening and loosening on the back of his neck, further urging him on even if the man himself remained quiet.

Back and forth he went, keeping constant pressure and movement going. Each stroke spread the oil around a little more, and now Eskel could smell even more precome mixed in with the rich scent of the oil. He liked it. Liked the mix, the heat and the scent, and the way Dracula’s power seemed to hum quietly around them.

After a few minutes, he laced his fingers together, holding Dracula’s cock pressed between his palms. This let him put a nice, even, tight pressure all around it. He loved how it twitched and throbbed in his hands and how another pearl of liquid leaked out of the head. Those visible signs of enjoyment only made Eskel tighten up with satisfaction.

He stroked up with both hands, swiping over the head with both thumbs as he reached the end. This action was the first one that pulled a sound out of Dracula: a long, loud, indrawn breath. Eskel felt his stomach flutter. Every other stroke, he added in a little rub to that ultra sensitive point on the underside of the glans, that little ‘v’ area that pointed up towards the leaking slit at the end. He knew from experience just how amazing that could feel, and he was very eager to see if Dracula would enjoy it as well.

The amount of wetness gathering at the tip was proof enough that he did enjoy it.

“I told you that you would be good at this,” Dracula said, his voice tighter than usual. His stomach was tensed all the time now, no longer relaxing between passess of Eskel’s hands.

“It’s much better than I expected, doing this to you. For you.” Eskel looked up at him, feeling a little shy. “I like how you feel in my hands. The way you look when I touch you.”

He liked even more how tense Dracula had become. That long, loud sigh was especially pleasing to hear. Eskel had to wonder what other sounds he could work out of Dracula.

With that in mind, he went back to stroking Dracula hand over hand, this time without the rub on the end. He just slid his hands, one after the other, across Dracula’s cock, giving him a sense of one long continuous pull. 

The scent was getting to him. The unmistakable mix of sex and sweat flooded his heightened senses until he was all but drowning in it. His mouth was dry as a desert, and tension coiled tight in his belly as he bent all of his focus on bringing even more pleasure. It barely registered that he was breathing harder; each pant inadvertently pulled in bigger gulps of air saturated with the scent of Dracula’s arousal.

The feeling of this stroke could be intense, so Eskel didn’t hold it for long. After only a minute or so, he moved one hand down to massage at Dracula’s balls. They were heavy and tight in his hand. Such a delicate joy to roll them around and cover them in body-hot oil.

That little bit of wetness dripping out of the head made Eskel want to preen in triumph. He loved that he could pull that reaction out of Dracula. 

His first real taste of that liquid wasn’t that bad either. The feel of it on his lips when he kissed it off earlier echoed through his mind again. It was bitter, but not intolerably so. More important than the taste was the way Dracula seemed to love him tasting it. Eskel himself enjoyed it when a woman swallowed for him, and he certainly liked licking them clean. Quite a bit, in fact.

On impulse, he rubbed over the top of the head, gathering up the precome there, and licked it off of his fingers. Bitter. A little salty. Oily, too, with the scent of flowers mixed in. The scent of it was strangely alluring. It was the easiest thing in the world to savor it on his hand. 

He wanted more of it. Wanted Dracula to leak and come and shake with pleasure. Just the thought of it made Eskel almost shiver, which was ridiculous because he felt so burningly hot that he might melt with it.

Over and over he pulled and stroked at Dracula’s cock, rubbing at the tip and smearing precome over his hand and back down the shaft. It pulsed in his hand, and the head had turned a deep red color. Whatever discomfort Eskel may have felt at keeping up the movement was completely lost in the act. Every twitch of Dracula’s body, every sigh and shift drove him to keep going.

Dracula growled suddenly, moving where he kept still before. He wrapped his hand around Eskel’s hold on his cock, fingers tight and strong. Then he pulled Eskel closer by the hold he had on his neck, leaving their faces just a few inches apart.

Eskel’s breath hitched.

“Watch,” Dracula growled and started stroking himself with Eskel’s hand, hard and fast, clearly aiming for an orgasm. 

Eskel could do nothing else. 

He took in the way Dracula’s pale fingers looked around his own, the way the swollen, dark red head looked appearing between their fingers. He was hyper focused on the smooth, slick glide of the fragile skin of Dracula’s cock under his fingers and the rough, calloused grip on the outside of his hand. The strength of that grip buzzed at him as did the way the air heated up with Dracula leaning in close. His own breathing had gone so rough that it was audible. The color rose up on Dracula’s cheeks as his cock twitched and swelled again under Eskel’s fingers.

He gasped in tandem with Dracula when the vampire came. The hot liquid spilled over their joined fingers. Dracula’s cock was so alive in his hand, pulsing and jerking with his release. Fuck, he loved that feeling and he found himself craving a closer look. The scent of sex was almost too much now; it pushed all other scents away and filled his nose like heavenly ambrosia. 

Hot, sticky come dripped slowly through his fingers. Eskel couldn’t help but drag his gaze away from that alluring sight to Dracula’s panting, open mouth just inches away from him. 

He held on to Dracula’s softening cock, cradling it in his hand. Eskel didn’t really want to let go just yet. Part of him liked the idea of holding Dracula until he fully calmed down. Another part of him remembered all the stories he’d heard from Geralt and Alucard, and fully realized that Dracula was far more robust than even a witcher in terms of stamina. One orgasm wasn’t likely to make much of a dent. 

With his hand still wrapped around Dracula’s tender flesh, Eskel pressed in close to lay a soft kiss on Dracula’s lips. He couldn’t resist. He had to taste them.

The kiss didn’t stay soft for long. Dracula’s other hand wrapped around the back of Eskel’s head and he pushed in. He licked in confidently. A steady rumbling growl filled the air around them. He kissed Eskel, wet and deep, as if his hunger hadn't been sated at all.

“Such a good witcher,” Dracula purred after he finally broke the kiss.

Eskel arched up into the praise, pressing in even closer. His body ached, probably from holding his position for so long, but it was a distant thing. The thrumming pleasure he felt from Dracula’s compliment pulsed through him.

He wanted more.

“Again?” he asked, breathy and rough. As he asked, he shifted his hand on Dracula’s cock. Just a little bit. Not enough to set off overstimulation pain, but enough to let Dracula know that Eskel was very serious.

“You need a reward,” Dracula said and lunged for another kiss, short and fierce. “You have been _very_ good.”

A heavy shudder raced through Eskel, and he let out a soft little noise, an almost pained sigh. 

Whatever it was Dracula had in mind, Eskel was all for. He could have asked nearly anything and Eskel would have jumped at the opportunity. Anything to earn him that praise again.

He suddenly realized that his cock was achingly hard and straining in the tight confines of his pants. Need pulsed inside of him, and every little shift, every single touch made him clench down with lust. From the feel of wetness alongside his cock, he must have been dripping precome for a while now. He’d been so wrapped up in giving Dracula pleasure that he’d never even realized it.

Now that he had, though, the need to get off burned through him. He arched into Dracula’s body, eager to get every scrap of friction and touch that he could.

“Please,” he said quietly.

Dracula bore him down and back. Eskel expected to hit the arm of the sofa, but there wasn’t anything until he was flat on his back. The sofa had somehow changed under them to accommodate the movement. 

Then Dracula was leaning over him, pulling Eskel’s head back and to the side, exposing his neck with ruthless efficiency.

Eskel knew what was going to happen next; he’d been bitten enough times to be intimately acquainted with the position.

“Yes,” he said. His hand fumbled at Dracula’s smooth skin. He needed to hold on, needed something to ground himself in before what he knew was going to happen came.

Dracula didn’t wait, didn’t tease. 

He put his mouth against Eskel’s neck and licked once over the madly pulsing vein there before biting in. He wasn’t gentle about it; his fangs went in deep and hard. 

The flash of pain was meaningless when after the first suck, pleasure poured down into Eskel. It was like liquid fire. Desire and pleasure were forced down into him with such strength that Eskel lost any awareness of anything else happening. He could only writhe under Dracula’s bite, making needy little noises that he was barely aware of while his whole being was being scoured with ecstasy. 

The heat inside him grew, drawn up by each sucking swallow on his neck. It touched every nerve, stroked every pleasure center that Eskel had in one glorious long pulse. The teeth in this neck were the sweetest thing he’d ever felt, and he was so breathless with it that he couldn’t even scream. He was coming, he knew that. His body spasmed in orgasm, full shudders that he barely even noticed but for how they made Dracula hold on harder to him. But it was no relief. The ecstasy kept building and growing as Dracula bit again, opening Eskel up more and forcing the sensations higher.

Another orgasm was ripped out of his body with throbbing, all encompassing rapture. His hips jerked against Dracula, but that only seemed to urge the vampire on. 

Dracula bit down _again_. Now Eskel found his voice. He cried out and nearly blacked out as another wave of bliss swamped him and forced a third orgasm out of him. His whole body ached and pulsed with it, to the point where everything other than ecstasy was completely forced out of his mind.

Dracula eased on the bite then, pulling out his fangs and licking at Eskel’s ravaged neck. If there was any pain from that, it was utterly lost in the orgasmic haze that flooded Eskel’s senses. He thought he’d been bitten three times, but he couldn’t be sure. Everything was fuzzy and soft. His heart thundered in his ears and his cock kept twitching in random little aftershocks.

“Such a good witcher,” Dracula murmured. He put his fangs to Eskel’s neck again and pushed them in. Just a little, just enough to break the skin but not so deep that Eskel could feel much blood trickling down. “I’m very pleased.” 

Eskel soared on the high of hearing those words, of feeling Dracula’s approval. Gentle hands stroked him everywhere. They ran up and down his sides, over his chest and through his hair. They touched down his leg, and one even settled right over his groin, cradling his spent cock. As light as those touches were, they left trails of sparks on Eskel’s skin. He wanted to hum in satisfaction, but couldn’t find the breath for it.

Dracula kept going. He pulled his mouth away and then bit lightly again in a different place, sending a confusing series of sensations down Eskel’s spine. It wasn’t quite pain and it certainly held notes of euphoria, too. Even better than the physical sensation was the understanding that Dracula was _marking_ him. That alone made Eskel’s pleasure spike up. Dracula wanted him, wanted everyone else to see that Eskel was _his_. Every single mark was proof of just how satisfied Dracula was, and that alone made Eskel want to beg for more. 

His neck had to look as if a wild animal mauled him by now and still Dracula wasn’t _stopping_. 

“So good for me,” Dracula breathed into his skin, and then bit down again right on his shoulder. Then he licked over the little wound and moved to another spot farther down. “Beautiful. Just beautiful.” Another bite to the collarbone. Another lick. “My Eskel. Mine.” The next bite was right on the swell of Eskel’s chest, and was accompanied by a shockingly pleasurable suck. “Behaved so well for me. Did such a good job.”

He kept praising and biting lightly, again and again, making Eskel squirm and hold on to Dracula for dear life.

Eskel trembled and shivered in Dracula’s hold. He didn’t even notice Dracula wasn’t even pulling his head to the side anymore. He couldn’t have moved away if he’d tried. The mix of pleasure and want and those light little pinpricks of pain swirled around in his head, overwhelming him. All he could do was cling to Dracula’s shoulders, torn between trying arch up and trying to shift away. Everything was so _much_. 

There was a soft whining, a high, breathy little sound, and Eskel was a little startled to realize it was him. Words were utterly beyond him. He couldn’t put together a single coherent thought.

Everything he was was focused on Dracula’s mouth on him and the soft words of praise in his ears, and it was _so very good_.

The next bite was right over his nipple, framing it with sharp teeth. Eskel gasped and tried to arch up into the brief moment of sucking; not enough to draw blood, but similar to the feeling of a love mark. It still made Eskel pant and twist. He couldn’t move right. Everything was uncoordinated and tight, every squirm was at least half just his body clenching down in pleasure. 

“Couldn’t be more pleased,” Dracula rumbled at him, so low that the vibration of his words echoed into Eskel’s chest. “Oh, how perfect. So good and sweet.” Another bite, this time on the other nipple. “Taste so good. All mine.”

The hand on Eskel’s cock started to move, rubbing him through his come soaked pants. Even with the protection of leather around him, it was still too much. It hurt, sharp and bright against Eskel’s shattered nerves. Eskel was already so wrung out, oversensitive and tender from the rapid succession of the orgasms that were pulled out of him. 

He pressed up into Dracula’s body, letting out a pained gasp. Moving was still so hard, but the pain forced him into motion. The best he could do was try to bury his head into Dracula’s hair as tears stung at his eyes. 

“Shhhhhh,” Dracula said quietly, and licked his way up Eskel’s neck. He gentled the movement of his hand, bringing Eskel some relief. His hand stayed there holding firmly on to Eskel’s cock, shushing him again as it twitched and jerked in his hold. As the friction stopped, the pain went away, and Eskel was limply writhing in Dracula’s grip again.

“There you go,” Dracula cooed at him. “Perfect, and all _mine_.” He emphasised that last word with one more light squeeze on Eskel’s cock, forcing another wave of sensation through him, though this time it was mostly pleasure. 

Then Dracula bit down again onto the other side of Eskel’s neck, sucking just long enough to thrust a short spike of electric bliss down into Eskel’s body. It didn’t last longer than a heartbeat, and then Dracula was moving down Eskel’s other side, adding shallow bite after shallow bite. 

“Such a wonderful job. My strong, pretty witcher. So good for me.” 

Eskel floated away on the endless praise as Dracula marked him all across his chest and down his shoulders. His body pulsed with heat, an ache that throbbed in time with his heart. Somehow he managed to get one hand tangled in Dracula’s hair, so soft and dark in between his fingers. Like holding on to silk. 

Slowly, the shallow biting turned to soft licks as Dracula laved his tongue over each and every mark he’d left on Eskel’s body. His tongue felt burning hot and wonderfully wet against Eskel’s bruised skin, like the best and most gentle of benedictions. 

“Mine,” Dracula grumbled happily in between licks. “Everyone will see that you’re all mine.”

Dracula’s hands roamed over him again, petting him and soothing him. Every touch left Eskel feeling warm and treasured. It satisfied something inside of him that he’d never even guessed was there. Nothing existed beyond that sweet attention paid to him. Dracula’s voice rumbled through his bones and his body warmed him like a fire.

Eventually the sweat started to dry on Eskel’s skin, and a little bit of coherence started to seep back into his mind. Dracula was still hot above him, stroking him like a cat and whispering the sweetest things that Eskel had ever heard. This moment could stretch on for another thousand years as far as Eskel was concerned. 

Soon enough, the ache of all those bites started to show up. Gods, but how many even were there? Eskel was a little afraid to look. It was still kind of difficult to think about it. His body was still buzzing with something that felt remarkably familiar to the comedown from a battle frenzy. Except somehow much, much better. 

Dracula was licking over one of the bites on his chest. The sensation of his tongue running over Eskel’s skin was a ridiculously good feeling. For a split second Eskel wanted to consider where else that tongue might feel good, but he very quickly put it out of his mind. His body was in no way able to sustain that kind of speculation. 

With some effort, he was able to run his fingers through Dracula’s hair. That felt very nice. Not quite as nice as Dracula’s tongue on his skin or the pleased little noises that Dracula was making, but still good. 

Little by little, he felt himself settle into his body again, and a full body ache replaced the buzzing pleasure from earlier. His skin felt tight from all the punctures, tender and hot, and he realized that his pants were very, very sticky. 

“Unnnggh,” Eskel groaned out quietly as he squirmed in place. Dracula’s body was still blazingly hot above him, and everywhere they touched still hummed against his skin. Even still, Eskel was rapidly feeling the need for some kind of shift in position. He felt almost like he’d been drugged. Every movement felt like he was walking through heavy mud. 

“That was… intense,” he finally managed to mumble. “It always like that?” The words were a little slurred, but he thought he made a good effort.

“No,” Dracula said quietly. “Not in this way, no. This was… different.”

Eskel rubbed a bit of Dracula’s hair in his hand, relishing the softness of it. The movement was shaky, but he managed it. “Was good,” he said, still feeling a little drunk. “This ‘s nice.” 

He blinked, and it lasted a second too long before he could pry his lids open again. Dracula’s hands still roamed over him, petting him up and down. If Eskel were a cat, he would be purring. He flexed his fingers in an attempt to get some movement back into his body.

Which was about when he realized there was something off with his hands.

One hand was still buried in Dracula’s hair. It seemed like far too much work to disentangle it, plus he liked it where it was. The other hand was free though, and he took a blurry eyed look.

Claws. 

Sometime during Dracula’s biting frenzy and all the orgasms, Eskel’s claws had come out. Hard on the heels of that realization was the fact that even though he’d been fairly unaware of his body and how it was moving, he did recall very well desperately trying to hold on to Dracula.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice dull with weariness and foggy concern. Dracula couldn’t be hurt, not by anything Eskel could do. But he couldn’t stop himself from worrying or asking. It was hard to think straight, and most of his brain power seemed to be wrapped up in feeling the overwhelming pulse of his body.

“Those cuties can only leave a love scratch,” Dracula said with a chuckle. He turned to catch Eskel’s hand and pull it forward to look adoringly at the array of claws Eskel was sporting.

As silly as the worry was, Eskel was relieved to hear Dracula scoff at any possible damage. 

The claws could wait. He and Dracula would deal with them later. For now he wanted Dracula wrapped around him. With what little strength he had, he pulled on Dracula’s body, urging him closer. He wanted to bury his face in Dracula’s neck, to breathe in his scent and kiss along his jaw. 

“Come ‘ere,” he said. The words came out in a cracked growl, though he didn’t mean for them to. 

Dracula let go of Eskel’s hand and leaned in, his body covering Eskel's and pressing on all those bites he left. His hair fell forward, the ends teasing over Eskel’s face and neck, waking up little shivers. The sensation brought a little smile to Eskel’s face, and he reached up to tangle his other hand in that silky hair. He had the strangest feeling that the claws on his fingers should be more awkward to maneuver, but they weren’t at all. It was if he already knew in his bones just what his new reach was and how much pressure to use.

“I see why Geralt loves your hair so much,” Eskel said quietly, his lips just a breath away from Dracula’s. “Soft. Feels nice.”

“Is the hair thing a witcher thing, not just a Geralt thing?” Dracula rumbled, leaning in to softly bite at Eskel’s jaw.

“Have you considered that maybe you just have really nice hair?” Eskel tilted his jaw into Dracula’s mouth, leaning up into the touch. Each little nip of those teeth made him feel warm inside. Cherished. 

Dracula kissed him wet and long, licking into him as if he was still hungry, still ready to eat Eskel whole. It was as if the vampire was never truly satisfied, his hunger waking up over and over again. Eskel thought that kind of constant, restless desire would be exhausting.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sate that hunger for Dracula, either. Perhaps no one could. But Eskel was happy to give what comfort he could. This was probably why both Geralt and Alucard seemed happy to share. 

So as tired as he was, Eskel just went with it, easily letting Dracula have control of the kiss. No one had ever kissed him like Dracula did, all hunger and possession. Likely, Eskel wouldn’t have _let_ anyone else do it. With Dracula, it was as easy as breathing. He loved how this easy giving seemed to mellow Dracula out. Eskel giving in meant that at least some of Dracula’s insatiable restlessness would go away.

The heat between them was glorious, and soothing in a way that Eskel hadn’t expected. He wanted to keep Dracula close and extend that feeling, but he couldn’t help but want to keep exploring Dracula’s body, too. The privilege to do so seemed like a rare treat. He kept one hand tangled up in Dracula’s hair, though the hold there was more to support his own arm than anything else. He moved his other hand up and down Dracula’s side, very careful to keep his claws light on the skin there. 

When Dracula finally pulled away, Eskel’s lips felt swollen and very wet. Eskel surged up, fitting his lips against Dracula’s for a moment longer, not deepening the kiss, just letting his lips rub against Dracula’s, just letting him know Dracula didn't have to _take_. Eskel wanted this too. A sense of satisfaction bloomed in his chest at how easily Dracula allowed himself to be pulled down. It suddenly struck Eskel just _how much_ Dracula was affected by Eskel’s ease at giving in. There was power in that reaction, he realized. That he was able to soothe Dracula’s urges with so simple a thing.

The thought of it struck him dumb for a moment, and in the same instant he realized that he would never, ever try to use that influence for something selfish. This was a vulnerability, and Eskel would guard it as such. This was also a gift, trust that Eskel didn’t honestly expect from Dracula.

They were so close. Dracula pressed down on every one of those bites on Eskel’s chest, lighting him up with a strange aching pain-pleasure. It was more than a physical sensation; it also brought to mind the memory of Dracula’s mouth on him and the sense of belonging that the marks represented. Dracula’s burning red eyes bored into him, and his face was half shrouded in shadow.

Lovely, and only for him in that moment in time.

“I have you now.” Dracula spoke quietly, but somehow his words vibrated through every part of Eskel’s body, shaking him to his core. 

“Yes,” Eskel whispered back, before he’d even paused to think about it. Yes, Dracula owned parts of him, but what shocked him the most was the realisation that Eskel owned parts of Dracula, too. Even stranger was the fact that it felt good, as well. Nothing like _taking_ at all. More like they were exchanging gifts.

He’d never felt that with a lover before.

Dracula’s answering smile was both incredibly smug and mildly terrifying. But Eskel couldn’t bring himself to be more than just a touch concerned. Between marks and deals and who even knew what else, he knew that at least to some extent he quite literally belonged to Dracula. He’d already made peace with that.

Heat flared across Eskel’s chest, radiating out from Dracula’s mark there, and he arched up at the sensation. That movement just pressed him farther up into Dracula’s body, and the scent of burning power filled the air again. It wrapped around them, sliding across every bit of skin on Eskel’s body. For a moment, he was covered in Dracula’s power, and everything around him had narrowed down to the darkness around him and the burning eyes above him. He couldn’t tell what part of him was being touched by Dracula’s hands, and what part was being caressed by shadows. Dracula was simply everywhere.

Eskel took a swift breath in and clung to Dracula’s physical body above him. Touch was everywhere on him, lighting up minor aches and pains from the bites as well as softer, more pleasurable sensations. As if Dracula were stroking all of him all at once. His body thrummed with the power around him, and he struggled not to dig his claws in to gain some kind of purchase. 

Before it could become too much to handle, the power dissipated, and Dracula was back to simply pressing him down into the soft cushions under them. 

“Mine,” Dracula whispered into Eskel’s ear. He nuzzled into his jaw and left another little bite right under the hinge. “Such a good witcher. I’m so pleased.”

Eskel buried his face into Dracula’s neck and pressed in as close as he could. 

“You liked your reward,” Dracula murmured. “I could taste how much you liked it.”

A little bit of heat graced Eskel’s face, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly. He couldn’t help but smile ruefully too as he thought about how quickly Dracula had gotten him off. Fuck, but he’d never felt anything like that. “You made sure of it.”

Knowing that it was a _reward_ made it even better. The physical pleasure was unbelievable, but the fact that Dracula was happy with him elevated it to a new height. That knowledge was something Eskel wasn’t quite sure what to do with. He’d always liked pleasing his lovers, but this went above and beyond that. 

“It was good,” Eskel said after a moment. “I liked it very much.” He tilted his head a little to get a better look at Dracula’s expression. The way they were crushed so closely together, it was more natural for Eskel to have his face buried in Dracula’s shoulder than to look him in the eye, but he was curious about what he might see. “Was it good for you?”

Dracula turned his face and nipped at Eskel’s hand, his teeth just barely scraping the skin.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. “Better than I expected.”

That made Eskel blush something fierce; his face burned with the compliment. “High praise,” he mumbled quietly, looking down. Dracula had been pretty clear up until now that he was eagerly anticipating whatever Eskel might be up for doing. To say that those likely high expectations had been exceeded was really something. “I’m glad,” he said after another moment. 

“Since we can count this as a resounding success, what experiment is next?” Dracula’s smile was a little hungry and sharp with anticipation.

Eskel had to laugh. Of course Dracula would already be looking forward to the next encounter.

“I think I need a little time to think about it,” Eskel said after a minute. He shook his head. “You make it hard for me to think, when I’m with you. It was really good, but my head still feels… fuzzy.” His limbs still felt weak too, and he couldn’t quite get enough coordination to do any real movement. Lazily stroking up and down Dracula’s side seemed to be about the best he could manage. “Next… I don’t know.”

A variety of different possibilities flashed through his head, some as terrifying as they were exciting. 

“Although,” he looked up to Dracula and raised an eyebrow, “if this is what happens with a handjob, I’m kind of concerned about what you’ll do after sex.”

“Eh.” Dracula flapped his hand. “Two orgasms, five orgasms, what’s the difference.” Then he grinned. “Witcher constitution is particularly suited for sex.”

Eskel had to laugh. “I’m sure that’s what the schools were aiming for with the Trials.”

“You might be on to something,” Dracula said seriously. “All the witchers I have met seem nicely suited for me.” 

Dracula leaned down, pressing his body harder against Eskel and reawakening the stings. The moment also not-so-coincidentally rubbed Dracula’s still hard cock into Eskel’s groin, causing him to shiver at the feel of it. Rubbing against the wet leather of his pants couldn’t have been terribly comfortable, but no doubt Dracula didn’t care in the least. It was surprisingly sexy, too, to have Dracula naked above him, even if Eskel didn’t have the energy to do anything about it. Eskel already knew he liked Dracula cuddled up to him, and now it looked like he enjoyed Dracula’s naked body pressed around him as well. Quite a lot, it turned out.

“Probably just a happy coincidence. You’d need someone enhanced to have half a hope of keeping up with you. Besides.” Eskel paused to lick his lips, feeling a little breathless. “It was three today, not two.” 

He huffed out another laugh and let his eyes close. 

Gods, but he felt wrung out. And sticky. Very sticky. Sore, too, like he’d been beaten with a razor whip all over his upper body, though his body still hummed with the fading afterglow of all the orgasms. His pants would require hours of work to be wearable again. It had been a very long time since he’d come in his pants.

Though once he thought about it, he realized the last time had been because of Dracula, too. The man was hell on his clothes.

“Help me get clean?” Eskel asked softly. 

The need to get washed off and comfortable was really starting to nettle him, but he loathed the idea of Dracula moving away. Not to mention he could barely work his arms, let alone go give himself a bath.

“You want me to clean you?” Dracula’s voice was a low, hungry purr. His hands brushed down Eskel’s chest, waking up little stings of pleasure and pain from the fresh bites covering him. One hand slid down to Eske’s hip, dipping under the cloth of his pants to grip the hinge of the joint.

Eskel knew what Dracula was implying. So far they’d both had a chance to clean one another and each time it had been a rather intimate experience. Dracula was thorough with his care, though likely more from a desire to rub his hands all over Eskel’s body than of any kind of dedication to doing the job well. He thought about how Dracula washed him in Castlevania City, and the careful way every part of him was touched and held.

“Yes,” Eskel said quietly. He thought he might like that very much. 

It took a moment for Eskel to realize the room was darker now. The light had given way to shadows that rose up around them in tendrils, wrapping them in a cocoon of darkness. He couldn’t even feel the shift when the last of the light was blocked away; this place was too saturated with Dracula’s power for him to tell the difference.

The inky blackness soundlessly fell away as slowly as it had covered them, giving Eskel his first look of the fancifully tied up curtains over the carved bed posts he was starting to recognize. They were in Dracula’s bedroom, laying on his lavish bed which was covered in the softest of silks and plushiest of furs. Today’s color scheme was black and purple. The color of the silk was so intense that Eskel couldn’t stop looking at it. There was a mineral aroma in the air along with a herbal scent and steam. He looked to his right and saw a large basin with hot water waiting there, small squares of white cloth perfectly folded beside it.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Dracula summoned one of his daggers. The matte black blade seemed to grow out of nowhere into his hand, and the scent of blood and burning power spiked for a moment. It was an elegant thing, and Eskel couldn’t help but admire it.

Even when Dracula started cutting off his pants.

“At least I won’t have to worry about cleaning them, I guess.” Eskel had to huff out a laugh, and he let his head fall back onto the soft pillows under him. 

“I like cutting you out of your clothes,” Dracula murmured, pressing the flat of his blade to Eskle’s thigh and dragging it up to his hip. Eskel shivered at the strange warmth of it against his body.

“I think I like it too,” Eskel said very quietly. 

“Such a lucky coincidence.” Dracula turned the knife and pressed it against the leather. It cut through his pants like they were made of spider silk not hide.

Eskel cleared his throat, swallowing hard against the dryness there. The light, fluttery sensation in his stomach had very little to do with the sharpness of that metal against his skin. Maybe it was months of feeling Dracula’s claws on him, but Eskel wasn’t worried in the slightest about such a sharp blade running so near his body. 

“You’ll have to get me another pair to wear before I leave,” Eskel said, though it was an absent thought at best. He was busy watching Dracula work.

“I’ll get you something,” Dracula promised distractedly, using the point of the knife to flick the cut pieces of leather away from his skin, finally baring it to the warm air. “Eventually.”

That made Eskel snort in laughter and shake his head. The urge to argue and pin Dracula down into doing something reasonable rose up inside of him, but not for long. The moment was too good to ruin with worrying about later. He shook his head again, this time ruefully. He might regret this later. He didn’t care. For the moment, he was willing to let it slide and just enjoy. Dracula probably wouldn’t do anything Eskel would truly object to anyways, and if he did Eskel could bring it up then. “Alright.”

Dracula only hummed, focused only on peeling Eskel out of his pants like a favorite fruit.

Eskel found he couldn’t keep his eyes off of what was going on, not for more than a second. Not with Dracula carefully, quickly skinning him out of his clothes like a fresh kill he was eager to eat. There wasn’t even a hint of sharpness against his skin, even though the dagger cut through the leather like it was butter.

In a matter of minutes he was laid completely bare. The room was warm. Warm enough that he shouldn’t be shivering, but still a little tremor raced through him. His cock lay soft against his thigh, and his skin glistened with his own come. Finally, he got a good look at the sheer number of bites on his chest too. Bruises were already starting to form and the skin looked red and tight around each puncture. The contrast between his well mauled chest and his untouched legs was startling.

There Dracula sat, kneeling between his legs, looking at the same thing Eskel was. Shadows clung to his pale body and his eyes glowed like embers in a dying campfire. He looked powerful and barbaric, sitting there with the knife in his hand, gazing over Eskel’s body with a palpable hunger. 

The sight of it brought up a swell of confusing emotions in Eskel, and he felt far more vulnerable than just the lack of clothes should have caused. While Eskel was a private person and didn’t care to be exposed to people, he wasn’t terribly body shy. 

This felt different. 

“So pretty when you are mine,” Dracula said quietly. He ran a possessive hand down Eskel’s chest, past his hip, and down to Eskel’s thigh.

Eskel shivered again. Before he really thought about it, he lifted his hips up, pressing his leg into Dracula’s hand. The movement looked obscene, and heat rushed to Eskel’s face as he realized it. The embarrassment was so keen that he had to look away for a moment. But Gods did he love Dracula’s hands on him. Especially now, when he felt so weak and vulnerable. 

“Oh, Eskel,” Dracula said, with the strangest note in his voice. Eskel couldn’t tell what it was, still too groggy to think clearly, but he liked the way the voice shivered right through him.

Dracula reached for the steaming bowl and soaked one of the washcloths in the water, making the scent of the herbs fill the air. He squeezed out excess water and then dragged the hot cloth from Eskel’s belly to his groin, wrapping his hand lightly around Eskel’s cock through the cloth. Eskel hissed and arched at the texture and heat of the soft-rough fabric against his oversensitive skin. That reaction was only amplified by the knowledge that it was _Dracula’s_ hand on him.

His knees pulled up almost automatically as he reflexively tried to get more leverage. Dracula wrapped his other hand around Eskel’s knee and held it still as he bent down and bit at the meat of Eskel’s thigh. 

The bite was quick; the fangs punched right through the skin, sending a jolt along Eskel’s nerves. The pain wasn’t anything that would truly register for a witcher, but at the same time it was _sensation_. The heat of Dracula’s breath on his skin contrasted with the unyielding strength of his grip on Eskel’s leg. The fearless push and retreat of his fangs into Eskel’s flesh felt like fucking, like penetration, like ownership, and it made Eskel gasp. With that bite came a tiny spike of pleasure, too, like a shock that ran through his body.

That one bite was enough to send Eskel into full body shivering again, spiralling into the ever present hunger Dracula radiated all the time. It was impossible to stop himself from pressing up with his hips and thighs in an attempt to get closer to Dracula’s mouth. The cloth and hand on his cock was steady, firm, but that little puff of breath so close to his thigh was torturously tempting. His cock twitched under Dracula’s hand and whatever exhaustion he was feeling was promptly pushed aside in favor of the pleasure of the hands and mouth on him.

Dracula pressed his tongue to the sluggishly bleeding holes he made, licking the few drops of blood there. His eyes were half lidded, the bright glowing red irises focused on Eskel’s face. He licked once, twice, waiting for Eskel to catch his breath and look at him. As he licked, he waited until their eyes caught and held. Then he opened his mouth and bit again, close to the previous bite. He kept _watching_ , staring right into Eskel’s eyes as his fangs sank all the way in, hard and smooth, parting his flesh like it was nothing and awakening a sting that didn’t quite classify as pain. 

Eskel’s breath caught in his chest at the sight of it. He wanted to grab hold of Dracula, somewhere, anywhere, but he had _claws_. They’d dig right in, and he didn’t want to hurt Dracula even a little. So instead he dug the fingers of one hand into the bed under him. There was a faint sound of fabric ripping, but he barely registered it. He was aware of making a high, frustrated little sound, but he ignored it, too caught up in what was happening.

The need to hold still left him shaking and tense, and he had to shove his other hand in his mouth to stop the little whimpers before they urged Dracula into something more than Eskel could take.

Dracula pulled his mouth away, the fangs pulling at Eskel’s skin on their way out.

“I like the sounds you make,” he murmured and bit again. 

Lower this time, along the inside of Eskel’s thigh. His hair fell down to brush over Eskel’s naked, wet skin, right along the base of his cock.

A soft little gasp escaped Eskel, and he tensed up even more. His soft cock twitched again under Dracula’s light grip, rubbing into the cloth he held there. Dracula’s hand was so warm, hot enough that he could feel the delicious heat of it through the washcloth. There was so much to feel. Lips, teeth, and tongue on his skin, in a place he’d never been bitten before. The rub of rough cloth on his too sensitive cock, and the tickle of Dracula’s silky soft hair brushing over everything. It took everything he had to not grind up into Dracula’s hold on him.

It was too much, but not enough to cross over into actual pain. As that clever tongue worked over his skin, Eskel let out another soft cry and there was another round of faint ripping from where he dug his claws into the blankets. Dracula teased out a few drops of blood at a time, savoring it. Little shocks of pleasure rolled through him, radiating out from the bites.

“If I had my way, I would mark every single inch of you. Keep biting you until there wasn’t a single bit of skin left on you without my marks.” Dracula’s voice was low and raspy, vibrating right through Eskel. The vampire’s body between his legs radiated heat, solid in ways that Eskel had never before found attractive but that now seemed perfect.

Eskel trembled at the thought of it, of Dracula’s mouth on every part of his body. The image was overwhelming; he couldn’t watch Dracula leaning over him with that mental image racing through him. The feel of cool breath on the wet skin of his inner thigh alone left him straining to keep still. His whole body was tense as a bowstring as he fought against himself. 

He took the hand out of his mouth and slid his arm up to drape over his eyes, his claws flexing in empty air now.

That was about when he realized that Dracula was probably tasting the come on his leg, licking it up along with the sweat on his skin and the trace drops of blood from the bite.

“Oh gods,” Eskel breathed out quietly. “Dracula.”

There was no purpose to saying the name. He just couldn’t think of anything else. His mind was too caught up with the hands, mouth, and shadows on him. 

Indistinct fantasties about that mouth on him everywhere, and the feel of those sharp, pleasurable bites covering him head to toe sped through his mind, indistinct and scorchingly erotic.

Dracula bit again and again, moving steadily towards where his hand covered Eskel’s cock. Each press of teeth sent a spike of arousal racing through Eskel’s body; the sensation was only coaxed higher by the feel of gentle sucking and soft tongue over each wound. Dracula’s hand was still on his cock, and Eskel let out a soft cry as his cock jerked and began to fill again. He was so sensitive, so very tender, but Dracula kept his hold light, never pressing Eskel into true pain from oversensitivity. 

His cock was getting harder under the wet cloth, and from the way Dracula’s hand shifted and spread out over its length, Eskel knew he’d noticed. The cloth was blood-warm by now, creating a damp, hot space between it and his skin. Eskel hissed when Dracula pulled it away suddenly. The air felt cold as it hit his damp flesh, waking up a riot of shivers. He flinched and squirmed, the sudden sensation shocking to his already overtaxed body.

“Shh,” Dracula murmured, “I have everything in hand.”

With those words, Eskel went boneless under Dracula’s hold. Whatever was happening, Dracula would take care of it, take care of him. He couldn’t stop the small shivers that still shook him, but he lay as quiet and easy as he could.

Dracula put his hand on Eskel’s belly and dragged it lower, his fingers spread out, until his palm was sliding against the wet, sensitive skin of his cock. 

“Oh,” Eskel whispered softly, his voice high and light.

Slowly, Dracula wrapped his hand around Eskel’s length. His calloused fingers slid gently across the soft skin as he stroked him lightly.

That touch was electric, and Eskel panted with the effort to stay still and let Dracula do what he wanted. It was so good, so soft and perfect against him. His heart pounded in his ears and there was the sound of more ripping fabric as his claws dug in further into the bed. Every muscle was drawn up tight as he ached to lean into Dracula’s touch.

Dracula rubbed his cheek against Eskel’s thigh, the one marked by a neat double row of marching bites, awakening the sting even as his hand was bringing Eskel pleasure, dragging him ever higher.

“I’m going to bite you, before you come,” Dracula informed him, pausing in his stroking to let his thumb circle the swollen head. The callouses there caught and dragged at his skin, spreading the gathering moisture there. Eskel could feel himself pulse in that grip, could feel how all his blood was pooling in his groin, how his hips were rolling up into that amazing hand almost without his awareness. 

“Yes, please, _please_ ,” Eskel begged softly. Whatever Dracula wanted, anything to keep this going. 

There was power all around him, he could feel it against his skin, crawling and touching. It felt hungry and clingy, the touch leaving phantom tingles on his very soul. It made Dracula’s body between his legs seem even larger, like Eskel was wrapped up completely in Dracula’s essence. Covered and protected. Vulnerable and open. He was so hot. Sweat trickled down his back, and still Dracula’s hands on him were scorching in comparison. Every stroke on his needy cock only forced the heat higher. He wanted more, was nearly writhing in need for whatever Dracula would give him. 

“Have I ever denied you pleasure?” Dracula murmured, leaning in close again. There were tiny smudges of blood on his cheek. His hair fell forward, ends trickling Eskel’s belly,his hip, teasing his nerves into higher sensitivity. 

A breathless laugh spilled out of Eskel. Dracula? Denying pleasure? 

He couldn’t really articulate a response. The feel of Dracula over him and around him was too much. All he could do was arch up into Dracula’s hold on him and let out a soft whining plea. The noise didn’t sound quite right. It was deeper and more guttural than his voice should have been capable of.

That just seemed to egg Dracula on. His eyes were so bright they were glowing and his breath was hot over Eskel’s skin. He pushed his tongue out and gave one long, wet lick to the head of Eskel’s cock, the flat of it dragging over his glans slowly. 

Eskel gasped, his eyes unfocusing at the sensation and the immediate influx of images burning through his mind. That tongue was so wet, so wonderfully soft. It didn’t matter that Dracula had already used his teeth to bite all down Eskel’s body and make him bleed. All Eskel could think of was the pleasure that mouth brought him and how stunningly sexy Dracula looked while licking him. 

Tightness curled up in his groin and his cock jumped in Dracula’s hand. Something like hope mixed with lust and bliss. Eskel knew that Dracula wouldn’t leave him untended. He trusted that Dracula would take care of everything. 

Dracula didn’t take his eyes away from Eskel as he turned his head, opened his mouth wide and bit down _hard_. Eskel hissed and moaned at the sensation of fangs piercing his inner thigh. They went in deep and fast, deeper than before. Eskel curled up instinctively and Dracula readjusted and then bit again, harder, and _drank_. 

Eskel whined, high and loud as the pleasure hit. It spilled into him from the bite, rushing through his body from that point of contact, making his cock jerk and spurt come even before Eskel realized he was coming. Ecstasy crashed through him. Great waves of it rolled through him from the bite on his thigh, over his groin, through his belly, to his spine, and then to his chest, filling him with liquid heat. He moaned and squirmed in Dracula’s hold, curling up as spasm after spasm hit, erasing all conscious thought out of his head. 

He came and he kept coming. Liquid pulsed out of him on every suck. He was sensation and pleasure, body nothing but singing nerves. He was blind and deaf with it, body jerking helplessly in time with every pull of blood. Dracula’s hand was still working him, jerking him off and sending almost unbearable shocks of sensation through his body, extending the already impossible orgasm.

He had no idea how long Dracula fed from him. It seemed endless, with his body working and straining to keep up with the overwhelming flood of pleasure. His throat felt sore and dry and his eyes stung, but those were distant things. The mouth and hand on him, stroking him and sucking at him, dominated all of his senses. 

When it finally stopped, Eskel was left shuddering and twisting weakly on the sheets. He could feel with startling sensitivity the way Dracula’s fangs slowly pulled out of him. The movement sent aftershocks thundering through Eskel’s body, and he moaned and jerked in place. His cock felt so very tender, already soft in Dracula’s blessedly still hand, and wetness spilled down his stomach. Come. He was covered in his own come. 

Eskel tried to blink a little, but his vision stayed blurry and wet. He was crying. Still crying, he realized, as hot tears burned down his cheeks. 

Everything was hot and sore and so, so wonderfully good. 

A find trembling raced through him as he took in deep, shaking breaths. He shuddered through another full body twitch, another brief echo of the release that was already spent. 

“Shh,” Dracula said, letting go of his leg and crawling over him. He gently pried Eskel’s claws out of the bed where he’d dug both his hands in, and then brushed away a few tears. “There’s no need to worry, you are _mine_ now.”

Eskel blinked up at him, eyes blurry from tears that were still falling and the orgasm that felt like it lasted for an eternity.

The creeping sensation of Dracula’s power marched over his skin, delicate and possessive at the same time. The only places it didn’t touch were those covered by Dracula’s body. _Warm_ , it was so warm. Eskel felt like he was wrapped in cool, painless fire. 

Faint, tickling points of claws trailed over him right along with Dracula’s wet mouth, licking at each mark and bruise. 

Eskel’s body buzzed and his mind felt as slow moving as pulled taffy, he was loose and relaxed in a way that just never happened. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, not that he could see much anyways.

He had just enough strength to tangle one hand in Dracula’s hair. Dracula’s answering purr and the sharp sensation of teeth on his skin sent an extra wave of satisfaction through him.

“Mine.” The word was spoken against Eskel’s heart.

_Yours_ , he echoed back in his head. 

Then he lost the fight against exhaustion and slipped into unconsciousness.

\---

Consciousness returned in fits and starts. He was aware of a pleasant tingling, tugging sensation that he couldn’t identify quite yet. It felt a little like his mark, those times when Dracula changed it, but this time it was different. He felt it all over, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. It plucked and pulled in a strangely pleasant way and he stretched, curling his toes in pleasure. He felt relaxed and rested. Nothing hurt. Even his scars didn’t bother him.

Over the tingling, he could feel another sensation, a gentle brush of a warm, calloused hand trailing up from his knee, over his thigh, down to the inside of it. Eskel’s eyes flew open.

That was definitely a hand on his soft cock. Gentle, thank the gods, but _present_ , and carefully caressing every inch of him. Around his balls, back towards his hole, then up again, cradling his shaft. 

A strangled squeak made its way out of Eskel’s throat. After so many orgasms, he couldn’t even muster up a hint of arousal at the possessive wandering over his skin. It still felt _good_. His skin sang with every touch and he ached in the best kind of way. It also felt dangerous, made him feel more vulnerable that simple nudity accounted for. There was something in being treated in such a sexual manner that was making him feel shy, tender and despite his expectations; he was more affected by this curious, gentle exploration than by the expert touch of most of the whores he’d ever met.

“Awake again?” Dracula sounded amused. 

There was another strange tugging sensation, this time accompanied by the feel of Dracula’s hair brushing across Eskel’s shoulder.

Eskel tried to say, “Barely,” but it came out more as, “Bnnhghn.” 

Fuck, when did speaking get so hard?

A ripple of magic flowed over Eskel like a sheet of silk being dragged over his skin. _Oh_ , but that felt nice.

A soft laugh echoed through Eskel’s bones. He could feel it vibrate through him just as he could hear it in the air. 

“So interesting, my witcher. Look at how pretty you are.”

Eskel made a solid effort to really pry open his eyes and take a look. No doubt he was a mess. The tight, tender feeling of each bite mark on his body was just barely noticeable over the latent pleasure that still buoyed him up. 

It felt like a lot of bites.

_Holy fucking fuck_ , it wasn’t just _bites_.

Eskel struggled to sit up a bit to see.

The triangular mark over his heart had spread out to cover most of his body. The runes squirmed and writhed over his skin. It wasn’t only on his chest; it had spread out to his arms, even down to his fingers. Small runes wrapped possessively over each finger, reaching down to his very fingernails. It also sprawled down his stomach. A large triangular rune spread over his cock, cheeky and possessive, ending just under the head like a black, patterned sleeve. There were long swirls of black marks, tendrils that curled over his thighs. Larger shapes seemed to decorate the outside, while smaller designs spread over the inside of his legs, curling merrily over his knees, and leaving the kneecaps oddly bare. 

Eskel stared at the small amount of unmarked skin, only offset by the thickly painted marks crawling down his shins, and felt incredibly _naked_. He was right before he woke up, the goddamn mark was stretched right down to his feet. Under the magic ink stretched across his body, there were the telltale signs of numerous bites and bruises. 

Dracula was there, leaning over him, fucking _prodding_ at the runes on his skin. And they _moved_. It looked less like Dracula was directing their movement and more like he was stroking a beloved, if incredibly strange looking, pet. The magical sigils nudged up to him affectionately. 

“The fuck,” Eskel rasped out.

Dracula grinned at him, showing off his sharp teeth. He gave Eskel’s cock a soft squeeze and then ran his hand right up Eskel’s stomach.

And _that_ felt significantly better than Eskel had dreamed it might. Not only was there the sensation of skin on skin, which was very nice, but it also felt like Dracula was stroking him with power, power that was already bound deep inside of him. His whole being responded to that pull and he couldn’t help but arch up into the touch.

Layered over that was the feel of all those places where Dracula had fed. Each one was sore; the tiny spark of achiness that awoke when Dracula touched them _instantly_ reminded Eskel of Dracula’s mouth on him and all the pleasure it had caused him.

He managed to get out a soft, “ _Oh_.”

“I’m going to have fun with that reaction,” Dracula said in a low, raspy purr. 

His hand wandered up to rub over one of Eskel’s nipples. It was obvious that he wasn’t trying to rile Eskel up, but that didn’t make his touch any less pleasant. 

Eskel made a soft sound that he couldn’t quite stop and he let his eyes fall closed again.

“Don’t mind me,” Dracula rumbled happily. “I’m just exploring.”

It was bizarrely comforting. Dracula’s power was all around him, solid and warm. His hands roamed over every little inch of his body, which only prolonged the post-orgasm haze he still seemed to be floating in.

Eskel tugged weakly at Dracula’s arm. 

“Get down ‘ere,” he mumbled. He wanted to press himself up against Dracula’s skin and bury his face there. 

Dracula hummed happily and then immediately Eskel was covered in Dracula’s body. There were strong arms around him and the scent of Dracula’s skin in his nose. Eskel curled in and nuzzled up under Dracula’s chin. A deep purr rumbled out of Dracula’s chest and the stroking continued down Eskel’s back.

Fuck, this was good.

Eskel had never had an after-sex reaction like this. Being in Dracula’s arms was the best place in the world. He didn’t even mind how Dracula’s hand wandered down to hike up his knee to rest around Dracula’s waist.

Magic hummed on his body in perfect tune with dull throb of spent pleasure.

“You bit me a lot,” Eskel said a bit dreamily. 

“Not enough,” Dracula murmured, sounding utterly pleased with himself.

Oh shit, now Eskel was thinking of _that_. He groaned and twisted weakly in place.

“Gonna give me a fixation,” he grumbled quietly to himself. Eskel didn’t have an excellent command of his brain-to-mouth filter on the best of days, and orgasming his brains out hadn’t helped one single bit. 

Eskel didn’t need to see Dracula’s face to know that he was grinning.

“Sounds good to me,” Dracula said.

“Mmm.” Eskel squeezed Dracula tight again. “Warm.”

It felt weird to be so warm again. Very good, though. 

He flexed his fingers in an attempt to get some mobility back in his limbs. Claws. He still had claws.

He’d think about that later. He was too busy enjoying the afterglow right now. 

Honestly, there was a whole host of things he’d have to think about later. Fuck, he’d given in so easily to Dracula’s wants, and it had felt _so fucking good_. He made a low, contented noise in his throat, and nosed into Dracula’s neck. 

He’d find time to properly panic about his reactions after he was done cuddling. Something in the back of his head told him that it probably _would_ be panic. This little event was so far beyond his normal experience that he didn’t even know how to think about it.

Right now, his brain felt fuzzy. Everything was wonderful. His body ached in the best way and Dracula was touching him all over. 

Eskel held on to that sensation. He reveled in it. 

Talons trailed down his side, inciting a shiver and a half-wanton groan. 

“Unfair,” Eskel mumbled in complaint, though he couldn’t help but smile a little bit, too.

“Nonsense. You could do the same to me.” Dracula’s smile was audible. “Besides, I like touching you. Now that you’ve allowed me to.”

The implication was that if Eskel allowed it, Dracula would do a great deal more. 

That thought sent rampant shivers through Eskel’s body. Dracula had already bitten and licked and sucked on half of Eskel’s available skin. Even now, his hands roamed possessively over every mark, pausing to tenderly play with his cock or to squeeze his ass. It made Eskel’s face burn with one long, steady blush, and he didn’t know whether he should object or encourage the exploration. 

His skin was warm and just a little slick, but not _nearly_ slick enough, given how many times he’d gotten off. 

_Oh_. Dracula had finished cleaning him. Eskel had just enough brain power to wonder if he’d used the cloth or his tongue. 

_Fuck_.

“I want to own you,” Dracula said slowly. “In ways I never wanted to own Geralt or Alucard.” He paused. “Not to the same extent at least.”

One of Dracula’s knees carefully eased up between Eskel’s legs, gently rubbing against Eskel’s groin. And holding his legs open, just a bit, Eskel realized. 

“Being that out of control is fucking terrifying,” Eskel said. His brain was working at the speed of frozen molasses. 

He didn’t feel terrified. Not right now. He felt cared for. Secure. _Wanted_. 

“This always seems to happen with you,” Eskel continued, puzzling the matter through out loud. “It feels so fucking good. That’s kinda scary, too.” Or it would be, once he had some time to brood over it. He knew himself well enough to know that.

He couldn’t quite keep track of what he was saying. Dracula’s hands and body were too distracting. Each little touch accompanied with the low, rumbling growl of satisfaction that occasionally came with it kept Eskel feeling drowsy and sated. This was different than the high he’d felt when touching Alucard after their bonding, but, fuck, did it share some common traits. 

“Keep me safe, and we can try this again,” Eskel said. He licked a long, flat stripe across Dracula’s neck. Something niggled in the back of his head and said maybe he shouldn’t do that, but that thought seemed far away. “I lose my head when I’m around you. All I want to do is what you tell me, even if it wouldn’t be so good for me.”

It was so much easier to talk to Dracula about this when Eskel was all sexed out and cuddly. Dracula was there holding him. Nothing could go wrong with Dracula there holding him.

“I’m very pleased with you, Eskel,” Dracula said softly into the hinge of Eskel’s jaw. He paused for a moment as Eskel leaned his neck into Dracula’s mouth. “I will attempt not to break you… But I’m not a gentle person.”

A tiny surge of happiness welled up inside of Eskel at the praise. He also appreciated how candid Dracula was being. That was something he’d always liked about Dracula.

“I know.” And Eskel did know. He didn’t mind that Dracula wasn’t often gentle, but he also knew that Dracula was significantly more gentle than he gave himself credit for. 

Eskel drifted for a few long moments as Dracula petted him. That feeling of magic still tingled all across his skin, especially where Dracula’s fingers traced what must have been lines.

“So far everything has been alright.” Eskel paused, and forced himself to actually _think_. This was important. He took a moment to try and focus. “Was there anything rougher you wanted to do? I’m not into pain, but witchers are sturdy. I don’t really have the same thresholds that normal humans do.” He shrugged one shoulder and nodded awkwardly towards his well-mauled chest. “Case in point.”

“I want plenty of things. To fuck you.” Dracula’s hand slid down to press at the bites on Eskel’s inner thigh, making Eskel squirm and his breath catch in his throat. “I want to have your mouth on my cock.” 

He rubbed his fingers into that tiny soreness. It barely even registered as pain. All it did was remind Eskel of the soul shattering orgasms he’d had while Dracula had fed from him there.

Dracula gave Eskela full body caress as he brought that hand up to press two fingers to Eskel’s bottom lip. “I want to see how you look with it filling your throat,” Dracula said. His voice was low and the dark rasp in his words became more pronounced. “I want to see how many times I can make you come on my bite alone, I want to see you cry from how overwhelmed you are.”

Eskel writhed in place at the images those words brought up as a wave of heat flushed through him. There was the tiniest bit of discomfort, a little tremor of disquiet, at the thought of anything in his throat, but he pushed it aside. Suddenly, he was more than a bit interested in using his mouth on Dracula’s cock. That was new. He’d never really considered it before now. The more he thought about it, the more he considered that the look on Dracula’s face while Eskel was licking him would be worth tolerating some discomfort. 

A heavy breath escaped him and he let his mouth fall open a little at the direction of the fingers on his lip.

“Also, the sight of you kneading the air with your claws was the cutest thing.”

That made Eskel huff out a real laugh and smile. He flexed his fingers that were buried in Dracula’s hair, dragging his claws softly against the scalp there. He set his other hand on Dracula’s shoulder.

With this tiny bit of leverage, he pushed Dracula up. To his vague astonishment, Dracula let him. With a supreme amount of effort, Eskel rolled the two of them over so that he was straddling Dracula’s waist. His arms and legs trembled with the energy spent, and in the end he had to dig his claws into the headboard to help. Somehow, Dracula had managed to get himself a little more upright, too, leaning his back against the headboard of the bed.

The blankets slid down around Eskel as he sat up, running over the bites and bruises covering him. Power still hummed along every inch of Eskel’s body as the tattooed runes shifted across his skin. A visible manifestation of Dracula’s claim.

Fuck. The thought of it slammed into Eskel all over again. A mix of good-bad, fear-want, yes-no left him shuddering and panting in the circle of Dracula’s arms.

Eskel made a stab at some of his regular biting commentary, though he was feeling a little too breathless for it to really sound right. “Is this permanent?” He nodded down towards the tattoo that he now wore like a second skin.

Dracula’s hands stroked up Eskel’s sides, and _fuck_ , but Eskel could feel how the power inside of him reacted to that. He bit his lip and his hips jerked forward from the pleasure and pull of it. 

When the silence had gone on too long, Eskel opened his eyes and raised a disapproving eyebrow at Dracula.

“...No,” Dracula said, a bit petulantly. “I’ll condense it again. When we’re done. For now I want to see you as _mine_.”

He trailed one finger over Eskel’s nipple and lightly pulled. 

Eskel didn’t quite remember how or why it had gotten so sensitive, but the little bud immediately tightened up. Dracula’s eyes glowed and he growled out his satisfaction at the reaction.

Eskel rested his arms on Dracula’s shoulders, and curled one hand up into that soft, black hair. 

He still felt shaky. Maybe Dracula could feel it, too, because he set his hands on Eskel’s hips, holding him steady.

They sat that way while Eskel took a slow, deep breath. As he breathed, he let his gaze take in all of Dracula’s powerful body, from his sharp smirk to his well muscled core, down to his strong hands.

Eskel thought about how he could feel Dracula’s half hard length rub up against his ass. It felt good, but it also sent a light bolt of worry up Eskel’s spine.

Dracula was ready for more. Wanted more.

Eskel had to admit to himself that he still had reservations.

“Still not ready for getting fucked yet,” Eskel admitted. “But… maybe the other stuff. I liked your mouth on me. Your bite.” He squirmed in place and his body felt tight, just for a moment. “The way you touched me while you fed.” His cheeks heated up, but he didn’t want to look away from Dracula’s gaze. It was too compelling, as endless and deep as the ocean.

“I liked the feeling of your cock swelling and jerking in my hand as you came.” Dracula felt hot and firm under him. “You gave me great pleasure.”

A wave of heat raced through Eskel and he took a slow, shuddering breath. He wanted to preen. Or maybe moan. It was hard to tell. 

“That’s good,” he said thickly. “That. When you tell me I’m doing well, that you’re enjoying what’s happening.” He took another breath and tried to keep his heartbeat steady and slow. “That makes me want to do more. Try more.”

“Oh.” That sounded entirely too calculating and Eskel shivered. He’d done it again. He’d given Dracula power over him _again_ and he couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. “Such a good witcher for me.”

The blush on Eskel’s face grew a little warmer at the praise and Eskel ducked his head, trying not to squirm in place. “I like that a lot,” he admitted. “When you say nice things. It makes me feel safe. Wanted.”

“You are wanted,” Dracula rumbled, low and sensuous. “And if you are not afraid of me, there aren’t many things that could get through me when we are like this.”

“It’s not physical hurt I’m worried about.” Eskel nodded down at where the two of them sat so closely entwined. “You make me feel like it’s alright to be weak. For a little while I feel…” He shrugged. “Precious. Generally, I’m more expendable.”

Dracula snorted.

“Despite appearances to the contrary, I own very little of the things I truly desire.” Dracula moved his hands down Eskel’s body, his fingers lazing racing from one bitemark to another, reawakening tiny stings of pain. “Those rare few that are more to me than a next meal, I will hoard and protect.”

“Dragon,” Eskel said affectionately. He leaned in and nuzzled into Dracula’s neck and jaw, cuddling up close. The press of warm skin on his chest was soothing to all those little wounds, and it felt good to be held. Good enough that he wasn’t really paying attention to how naked he was, how naked they both were. “I like how fierce you are.”

Eskel sagged into Dracula’s arms. Exhaustion gnawed at him. He’d come right off the Path to Dracula’s company. A few short hours of sleep wasn’t near enough to revive him, especially not with how thoroughly Dracula had worn him out. 

Dracula ran a hand down Eskel’s side, while the other wrapped around his shoulders. The moves were slow, sensuous, and Eskel wanted to purr; they felt so nice. He definitely did let out a happy rumble.

When the hand on his side slid down and got a handful of Eskel’s ass, he squeaked and jumped in place. 

The world spun for a moment, and then Eskel was flat on his back on the bed with Dracula leaning over him. Dracula’s eyes were bright and crinkling with mirth and his hand roamed up Eskel’s chest, brushing over each bite mark as they went.

“And now,” Dracula said with a smirk pulling at his lips. He reached for Eskel’s hand. “Your _claws_.”

Eskel barely had time to flinch before Dracula pulled on the first claw. 

“Ah!” Eskel yelped, jumping in place at the pull. Then he dropped his head back onto the pillows and groaned. “Oh Gods. One day I will figure out how to do this myself.”

“I would rather you didn’t,” Dracula murmured. The smirk was still very much in place as he pulled on another claw. Then that one was pushed back in as well. Eskel squeaked and wiggled, unable to stop himself from doing so and completely unsure how to even feel about that fact. Dracula’s power was dark and sticky at the very tips of his fingers, as much a sensation as it was a visual. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, especially with the added realization of how Dracula was essentially rearranging Eskel’s body for him.

“When you move us,” Eskel asked, squirming again when Dracula went for another claw. This one he tugged twice, and Eskel made an embarrassing sound each time. “Why do you always… deconstruct the world around us, and never… me?” Eskel asked. If Dracula could manipulate his claws like this, could he make Eskel disappear and reappear the way he did to his own body?

Dracula frowned briefly, before his lips twisted into a sad little grin.

He let go of Eskel’s hand and pressed two of his fingers to Eskel’s side. There was tingling, a sensation of pressure and slowly growing discomfort that Eskel knew would turn into pain if it continued.

“I can break the bonds that keep your body together,” Dracula said quietly. “There is very little chance I would be able to put you back together unchanged.” Dracula took his fingers away, and the sensation of pressure dissipated rapidly. “My power isn’t always predictable. It tends to have its own opinions about what I want or need. And,” he paused a moment, and his lips quirked up in a smile, “I like you as you are.”

“Oh.” Eskel thought of the demon guards he saw around the mountains. Dracula was keeping him safe, him and Geralt, whenever he shifted the world around them. He was careful of the mortals he took interest in. Dracula liked to say he didn’t care, but it wasn’t the truth. He might not be gentle or very sympathetic most of the time, but he cared. Otherwise he wouldn’t be that careful of him and Geralt.

And then Dracula tugged at another claw and Eskel forgot any charitable thought he had about the vampire and _cursed_.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Dracula said barely hiding a chuckle. “I’m almost done.”

“Food after this,” Eskel grumbled unhappily between yips and flinches. “Then more sleep.” 

He still felt a little shaky, though talking with Dracula had settled him a lot. Hunger had started to pinch at his stomach, and he was still tired as hell. Most of the aches just reminded him of how good it felt to get them, though, and how much both he and Dracula had enjoyed the whole process. 

The marks were excessive. But. Maybe nice, too.

He smiled a little bit and ran a hand down his chest, noting every single bite along the way. Pleasure curled up in his gut, a strange offset to the slight sting of the bites.

“I won’t heal you,” Dracula said, noticing the movement. “I also misplaced all your potions.”

Eskel snorted in amusement. Then he smirked, maybe a little ruefully. “I like the marks. Give me my stuff back. I won’t potion them away. Not unless an emergency comes up.”

Dracula harrumphed. “I will put them in your room,” he said after a moment. “I’m trying to find a way to make them stay longer.” Dracula touched the side of Eskel’s neck, awakening the sting of an impressive hickey there. Eskel remembered suddenly the feeling of tingling power at his skin when Dracula sucked there, marking him. “I want to see how long this one takes to disappear.”

Eskel shivered and blinked a couple of times. “Marking what’s yours?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

“Yes,” Dracula said simply, never ashamed of his possessiveness. “Besides, the marks look good on you.”

Eskel shook his head at how pleased Dracula sounded. He couldn’t help but feel a little pleased, too. 

“It’ll be a nice reminder while I’m out on the Path.” Eskel smiled again and thought about how it would feel to be out on the road, able to touch one of those bite marks and think about how Dracula enjoyed his company and wanted him to return. It was a very novel idea.

“You look best when wearing my marks,” Dracula pressed his fingers to the triangular mark on Eskel’s chest, awakening the power there, making the black runes shiver and twitch on Eskel’s skin.

The feeling of Dracula’s magic crawling over and in his skin was odd, but not nearly as unsettling as it probably should have been. In the end, Eskel just had to snicker a little at Dracula’s shameless possessiveness. 

As hunger twisted in his stomach, Eskel debated on what to do next. He ran a hand, now clawless, over Dracula’s side, enjoying the fact that he was allowed to do that. 

“I really do need to eat,” he said finally. “But. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to sleep here after.” Eskel looked up into Dracula’s warm, burning eyes. “Your bed is warm and soft. Smells nice. Smells like you.”

The vampire smiled at him.

“Such a good witcher.”

Happiness, sweet and surprising, swelled up inside of Eskel, and he smiled back. 

“Food is already on its way,” Dracula murmured, shifting to lay on his side. He was still fingering the bite marks on Eskel’s chest. The gentle touch and the tiny sparks of pain when Dracula pressed at a deeper bite here or there were extremely distracting.

Eskel could get used to this, to the lavish bed and the heavy weight of Dracula’s attention on him. When Geralt had showed up looking like a young man again, with most of his scars gone, Eskel hadn’t known what to think. When he introduced his lovers, both powerful vampires and one of them something more, something darker, Eskel had worried. He’d never expected to fall into the bizarre network of relationships blossoming in the old witcher keep, nor did he expect to tangle so deeply with Dracula himself. As strange as it was, as terrifying at times, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

Hopes that he’d never given name to before stirred inside of him, and for once he didn’t feel the need to push them aside.

As peculiar as it seemed, as alien to him, Eskel was starting to think that he could be happy here, in this impossible castle and a new world shaping up around them.

The End.


End file.
